


Supergirl and the Robin Hoods

by sierrahiker



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Capture, F/M, Gen, Kryptonite, Strong Women, Struggling, damsels, ropework, tied up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:13:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23556607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sierrahiker/pseuds/sierrahiker
Summary: Supergirl flies in to stop a "simple" robbery from the National City Museum. But, both the thieves, and Supergirl, are stunned when she loses her strength and they get away. The first chapter of a multi-chapter adventure.
Relationships: Lena Luthor - Relationship, Sisters - Relationship, supergirl - Relationship
Comments: 23
Kudos: 11





	1. Supergirl meets the hoods

Chapter One – Home –  
When she woke her arm flopped over to the other side of the bed, still neat and not slept upon, where once she would have woken Mon El. She always had the sun meet her just a minute before him, from this side of the bed in her Central City loft. The yellow star that both gave her strength on Earth and reminded her that she was a guest who had no home waiting. Krypton was gone and the red sun and crystal spires of her childhood lived only in her memories now.  
Maybe that’s why she was so drawn to Mon El. There’s nothing quite so comforting as someone who knew where you learned to walk. Beneath the warm radiation of Sol, and in the gentle gravity of Earth, walking would be the slowest way for her to travel. But, today, it would be walking, as she wasn’t Kara Zor El, on this Saturday, she was Kara Danvers; journalist and adopted sister and daughter to a new family that would be waiting for her at the coffee shop.  
The “Crisis” had changed so much. Sometimes-subtle changes to a location or friend’s address. Sometimes changes so beyond belief that she seriously considered that she was still dreaming for weeks after surviving. Discovering Lex Luthor was considered a hero, savior, and the de-facto leader of the government department where she protected this Earth from enemies foreign, domestic, and extra-terrestrial.  
Lex, who once tried to kill her cousin Kal El – better known as “Superman,” of course, on her new home. Lex, who – in another iteration of reality – had almost destroyed the last vestige of her home world, And, Lex, who emerged from the multiverse crisis with new standing and knowledge of her true, dual-identity.  
On this Saturday she swung her legs out from under the covers and was reaching for her Kara Danvers glasses when vibrations reached her Krypotian ears that were discordant from the usual cacophony of cars and busses two stories below.  
She’d learned from her mother – mothers really – both on Krypton and Earth – to focus. Something she thought she’d teach her cousin Kal. But Kal reached Earth before her while she languished in relativistic slumber. Arriving years after Kal, yet not being aware of the travel time. Such was the strangeness of our universe that was known to every Kryptonian child, yet was just dawning on this planet beneath her golden sun.  
There it was again. Kara closed her eyes and focused on sounds that ran counter to the river of vibrations she’d expect. It was the groaning of metal being cut. Of glass breaking. Of construction sounds on a Saturday, when everyone should be slowly waking to bagels and coffee.  
Turning her head, slowly, Kara could hone in on the direction and guess the distance from the intensity. The Central City Natural History Museum. Not, yet, open but not the sounds that should be coming from the new exhibits.  
Before meeting her sister, Alex, and her mother; there was a stop she’d make as her persona here in this new, post-crisis reality. Supergirl.

The blue and red of her Kryptonian attire was a blur to human eyes as Kara moved above the usual weekend activities of morning jogging groups, people kayaking on the waterfront, and a city slowly waking to a blue sky and a warm Autumn day.  
Atoms and molecules are always moving randomly, no matter their state – solid, liquid, gas, plasma – it makes no difference. A byproduct of drinking in solar radiation, for a Kryptonian on this small and rocky world, is the ability to influence the random movement of their own molecules to have a net force in one direction. It took both Kal and Kara considerable concentration at first. But the seeming ability to fly had Kara above the museum in seconds. It wasn’t “fight” in the true sense of the term. No wings or buoyancy was involved. But Kara hovered above using her eyes – which were sensitive to electromagnetism far beyond the visible – to see through the building. See through to the vault below the main floor, where three figures were carrying boxes heavy enough for them to need two people, and loading them onto a vehicle.  
“I don’t think that belongs to you…” said Kara, as she stood at the black van and waited for the two men and one woman – who were busy filling boxes from the vault – to notice her.  
This was the fun part. This was kids-play. Kara had to steal herself from enjoying it a bit too much. They’d be shocked. Surprised. Exclaim; “It’s Supergirl!” …. She’s seen this before and this time went right to script. The largest of the three dropped his box and didn’t even try to run. The other man and lady simply stood and watched while Supergirl approached to apprehend them  
That’s when it happened. That’s when everything went off script and this was the part that Kara would recount, in detail, to her mother and Alex later that morning.  
Kara walked towards the man closest to the black van. He had just dropped a load and as they both thought they knew what was coming next, Kara felt her knees buckle.  
For a moment, the three thieves - in grey jumpsuits - thought she was about to do something dramatic. But, no, it was her proximity to the box, that was in back of the van, that did it. A box containing gemstones, relics, and museum artifacts not, yet, ready to exhibit.  
The other two retrieved their bounty and threw them in the van.  
“What’s wrong with her?”  
“What happened?”  
“Who cares? Let’s get out of here!”  
The screech of tires. The feeling of dizziness and nausea slowly passing. Kara had felt this before. Kara knew that the box must have contained some kind of Kryptonite.  
By the time Kara had regained her strength and stood straight, the van was gone. Lost in the city and lost to her.  
She’d check the cameras and use her rational, journalist training to track down the thieves. But, for now, Kara was happy enough to feel the dizzying effects of being too close to concentrated Kryptonite wear off. She’d meet them again. But, not this morning.


	2. Lena Luthor and the Smart Cuffs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supergirl - Kara Danvers - meets her sister for coffee and recounts the story of the robbery suspects that escaped earlier in the morning.The robbers turn out to be part of a growing resistance to the "new order" that appeared since "Crisis on Infinite Earths." The new order that lead to the Luthors being hailed as heroes. When they return to their hideout they discover their attempt to hsck into Luthorcorp and the DEO has lead to a very interesting video feed. Lena Luthor, in her lab, testing her new hi-tech, "Smartcuffs:" that can restrain any suspect.

Chapter 2“Lena”Before “The Crisis;” before the multiverse imploded and was reconstructed with memories and beings and places revived, yet different, there was one constant Earth knew. That was Lex Luthor was ruthless and powerful and a contained antagonist to humanity that Superman had helped bring under control. Central City existed again, albeit, with subtle changes that anyone with pre-crisis knowledge found sometimes annoying. Sometimes the changes were outright dangerous.Not a problem for the millions who walked the streets of Earth’s fourth-largest city with memories of a universe that was consistent and familiar. To Kara Danvers, and her friends and family, the changes took away that bedrock upon which they stood. Lex Luthor was now a Nobel Prize laureate and “humble servant of the people.” The DEO – the quasi-government department, which Kara (aka “Supergirl”) assisted, was taking orders and direction from the very Lex Luthor Kara had once worked to defeat.Supergirl, herself, had been transformed into a public-relations liaison -complete with commercials and public appearances – that looked almost like fascist propaganda. A happy, smiling Lex and his adopted sister Lena – next to a blue, red, and gold Supergirl touting their “tireless efforts to secure Earth and preserve liberty.”Kara had been biding her time since the Crisis. Kara’s sister, Alex, had already broken ties with the DEO. Kara stayed out of a sense of obligation. Obligation to keep an eye on Lex and discover his motives. Obligation to stay close to her friends at the DEO – especially “Brainy” and “Dreamer” – who both knew her secrets and needed her support. An obligation to do what was right despite her public persona.Krypton had no television, or Internet, or elections and democracy for that matter. Krypton resembled more of an ideal than a real place that existed now only in Kara’s memory. Krypton, also, had no seasons as Earth does. Thanks to an accident during formation, some four and a half billion years ago, Earth is tilted with respect to her yellow star by twenty-three and a half degrees. Just right for four seasons.This season on Earth – Autumn – while not experienced by Kara when she was a child on Krypton – strangely made her feel as many Earthlings do when the leaves turn color and the shadows grow longer. Nostalgic, reflective … almost a longing for something that seems out of reach. For Kara, it wasn’t only Krypton and a childhood that ended too early. It was Mon-El, and the feeling that whenever she was just about to find happiness; it slipped away like her youth on Krypton.The one thing we all look for is some consistency and a secure place. On this October morning in Central City, Kara found herself looking for her old and secure coffee shop where she’d meet her sister for coffee. On this morning, she was reminded that the “Crisis” even took from her this one comfort. “Their” coffee shop had changed location by six blocks and now, instead of looking towards Central City Park; had a view of the docks and a “cross-fit” gym where humans paid some of their hard-earned money for the strange privilege of lifting heavy objects … repeatedly … and placing them down again while staring at themselves in large mirrors. Sometimes, there was even another human yelling at them while they did this. Strange species indeed.  
“And you weren’t wearing your comms WHY?” asked Alex while the barista tried to listed through a cloud of latte’ steam.“Alex … c’mon! I just woke up and I can’t sleep with that thing in my ear and I just figured it’d be a quick in-n-out. I didn’t expect this.” Said Kara, while thanking the young man who made her latte’, who was desperately hoping she’d make eye contact, but had no idea he’s just served a Kryptonian a steamed milk and double shot of espresso.Incidentally, there was no coffee on Krypton either. No seasons, no coffee. The thing that made Earth a bit more bearable for extraterrestrial visitors and adoptees was coffee and chocolate. Kara had developed a taste for both.“So, where’s mom?” asked Kara.“Couldn’t make it. Now, back to this morning. Did you call it in? Did you call the DEO?”“No!”“No?’”“Nooooo!”  
“Look, Alex. No cameras saw it and I don’t want to answer to Lex about this. ‘Kara Danvers’ can solve this one. I’m a journalist. I investigate and solve things. ‘Supergirl’ doesn’t have to be involved. Those guys probably have no clue that whatever hey stole had some kryptonite in it. This look like a job for ….”“Supergirl.” Said Alex, with a wry grin.“Super-KARA” replied Kara, laughing with her sister.  
“Play some racquetball later?” asked Alex.“In the ‘Green Room’?” asked Kara.  
“Of course.” Grinned Alex. “How else am I going to be on an even-footing with my Kryptonian sister if she’s not in the makes it fair?”The “Green Room” was first developed in the DEO: pre-crisis. A room with just the right amount of simulated kryptonite radiation, at just the right frequency, to negate Kara’s advantage. Krypton had more gravitational acceleration than Earth. And Kara’s denser molecular structure made Earth feel like a kid’s jumpy house at a backyard birthday party. When Kara first donned her red cape, Alex brought her to the DEO’s green room to train. Now that Alex was no longer an agent, she brought a bit of the green room emitter technology with her so her, and her sister, could do what all siblings do: compete for bragging rights.Kara may have been an adopted daughter from Krypton; but her and Alex were more sisters than many siblings who shared the same parents on Earth.  
\--  
Along the waterfront in Central City, south of the tourist attractions and wine bars, in one of the piers assumed, by most, to be abandoned and ready to fall in to the bay, three confused “Prols” silently unloaded a van with their trove of uncategorized antiques from the morning.“Prols” was what they called themselves. Both on social media and when they had to remind themselves why they joined this cause. “Proletariate,” would be the proper word.“What the hell just happened?” asked Jazz as she took off her completely unstylish scarf that was meant to hid her face, but really just accentuated her green eyes and red hair.“Jazz: wasn’t her real name but none of the Prols used their real name, not even with each other. At least when they were “working.” Working, in this case, meant doing their version of traipsing through Sherwood Forest stealing from the rich to give to the poor. Well, to give to someone else anyway.“I don’t know;” began Tech. “Maybe she had another call, or partied too hard last night, or had Kryptonian pms for all I know. Who cares? We got away.”Tech was twenty-five and he’s met Jazz and Yose, the third in their museum heist group, on-line at first. They all took the leap to meet in person, along with some others, not only because they felt the world was overdue for some social justice. They had no way of knowing but their shared feeling of a vague uneasiness about the world began just after the Crisis. Just after beings had caused reality to be rearranged and put back together not quite the same.One of those less than minor changes was Lex Luthor’s transformation into a philanthropic industrialist technology icon. Kind of a mix of all the high tech CEO’s from the “Earth” with some CIA, KGB, and maybe a little game show host, all thrown together to create this “new” Lex.Jazz, Tech and Yose couldn’t have possibly known they were feeling the quantum after-effects of the rearrangement of time and space. Most people who had these vague feeling chalked them up to too many triple mochas from “Pequads” (The new Starbucks. Long story - and not really worth a side trip. Suffice to say, some changes in Earth Prime were for the better, and many were, decidedly, for the worst.) Humans, it turns out, can be very good at ignoring little annoying voices in their heads like; “How did I get here?” “Did I leave the stove on?” and “Was time and space completely rearranged while I was busy binge-watching that prison show on ‘WebFlix?’”While Jazz and Yose finished unloading the van Tech gaped at his screens. You can imagine that with a handle like “Tech” he had a certain skill set that was more than valuable to a group trying to redistribute the wealth from people like the Luthors.Tech had set a program running when they’d departed for the museum. His algorithms helped them pick their targets. Where will cameras be off? Least chances of getting caught. Rewards vs. risk. Probability of being about to grab a quick pint afterwards.His hacker program hummed silently away while they were gone. Looking for vulnerabilities in the Luthor firewalls and AI interfaces.It found one.Three faces were illuminated by the glow of flat screens in an old warehouse while they listened to a recorded feed from the office of Lena Luthor herself. The program worked! An unsecured router in an obscure subsystem gave them three cameras and audio and what they saw in Lena’s office / lab had them not wanting to blink because they might miss something … On screen they saw Lena testing ….. something.  
‘’’“Hope!” said Lena. “Hope” was he name Lena had given to her AI interface. Her AI had become Lena’s helper, confidant, and a surrogate friend ever since her feeling of being betrayed by Kara. Lena, one of the few that retained the memories the Prols only felt in their dreams, was working on a means of controlling the extra terrestrials that had so-recently come knocking on Earth’s door.“Hope; set up a test of the ‘Supergirl on ice’ protocol.”“Are you sure Miss Lu-thor?" Came a pleasant, but undoubtedly electronic, voice.“Yes, I’m sure. If I’m going to trust these restraints to work to hold Supergirl or whomever else might be a threat, I must try them myself. I must know for sure.”“Yes Miss Luthor.”  
“But, Miss Luthor, are you sure you want disengage the safety protocols?” continued the measured voice of Hope.“Yes, Hope. If I can’t escape this then no one should be able to.” Then, speaking more to the air and as if releasing her own pent up thoughts; “No human … no alien … no Kryptonian ….”“Hope: do you remember the suit we made for Supergirl. The suit, which expanded automatically using carbon nanotubes and a modular, compact design?”“Yes, Miss Luthor.”“Your job, Hope, is to monitor the stress levels and Newtons of force. If I’ve designed this correctly, it should exactly counter any for applied. It had the minimum force for holding a prisoner who isn’t resisting, but increases fore in direct proportion to the strain applied.”“Yes Miss Luthor.”  
Above the bay, in an almost forgotten warehouse, Jazz, Yose, and Tech watched in rapt attention. Yose was still feeling the weight of a museum box pulling his arms down, forgetting completely to set on the concrete floor as he eavesdropped on Lena Luthor.  
“Ok, Hope. Let’s begin.”  
Lena heels clicked across the lab floor as she reached for, what looked like, an oversized fitness watch. The watch itself was silver and the band was black with no discernabe clasps.  
Lena took a breath. She’s already removed her lab coat and business jacket and now stood in the center of her gleaming lab with Hope, her AI assistant, glowing and humming and no other contact that could help if this didn’t work.  
“Here we go.” Whispered Lena, to herself.  
Lena felt the device. It was warm despite it appearing to be cold and metal. Carbon fibers have several times the strength of steel and nanotubes – microscopic cylindrical structures build up a few layers of covalently bonded Carbon at a time – were stronger still.  
As she brought it near her left wrist she simply said; “Activate restraint.”  
In a tenth of a second if found her wrist and the free ends joined to make, what looked like, a large watch.  
For a moment, nothing more. Then Lena started t walk.  
“Please stay exactly where you are.” Said an almost too-polite voice with a hint of an English accent (or, was it Australian.) The voice came from the device on her wrist, programmed as the first and most gentle restraint.  
Lena began to walk, playing the part of an uncooperative detainee.  
With a series of clicks and the quickness of a snake extending for prey, Lena felt her now restrained wrist pulled behind her.  
“Please stop.” The restraint reminded her.  
Lena continued to walk. When amoeba move the extend part of their body. It’s called a “pseudo pod” which means “false foot.” The pseudo pod reaches out until the entire protist had reached to the extent where the original pod extended. That’s that the black, carbon nanotube structure did next. It extended from her secured wrist, which was now behind her at the base of her back just above her skirt, and wrapped itself around her free wrist. Securing it and bringing it closer to her left wrist. Wrapping, clicking, holding fast. Not metal. Not fabric. A hybrid that was exactly as secure as it needed to be. And now it had Lena’s wrists “cuffed” behind her.  
Lena tried to pull her wrists apart without so much as a hint of give from the restraints.“Shall I stop the test, Miss Luthor?” came Hope’s always-calm voice.“Not yet.”  
Lena began to walk yet again, and again the restraints – politely – asked her to stop.When she did not, the carbon extended yet again, this time towards the ground and her high heels. Wrapping so quickly around each ankle that Lena froze in her steps.Lena let out a little smile because it worked so well.“Now, Miss Luthor?”“Not, yet, Hope.”  
“OK …” came another whisper from Lena to herself, “Let’s se what you got?’”  
Lena continued moving with little scoots of her heels along the polished floor of the lab.“Please stay in place. You are being detained.” Came the very polite voice from the “Smart Cuffs.”“Not on your Life.” Replied Lena as her competitive side emerged.  
Lena tried some more scoots ….  
“Final warning…” said the cuffs “…. Please do not resist.”  
Lena’s continued progress forward was answer with the length of malleable carbon fiber restraints that were now, effectively, holding her wrists and ankles shortening! This brought Lena to her knees. And, yet, Lena still fought the bonds.  
This time, without warning, the cuffs and ankle restraints yet again decreased their length until Lena’s wrists were almost touching her secured ankles. Lena was effectively hogtied ad wriggling on the floor of her own lab!Lena pulled, strained, arched her back and rolled from side to side. The cuffs held firm and she was working up a sweat as her blouse and skirt pulled tight against Lena’s body and her toned and trained body made no progress against her own invention.As five, then ten minutes passed Lena was just about to ask, “Hope” for release; when Hope spoke.“Miss Luthor, it appears I’ve been compromised. There is a hacking attempt in subsystem fourteen, internal surveillance.”“Hope. Release restraints!” said Lena as she looked up from her hogtie.Nothing.“Hope!”“One moment Miss Luthor.”“Hope, now!”Lena now began a frantic rolling and pulling. Her muscles were growing tired and the buttons on her blouse had come undone as she fought valiantly against a carbon polymer far stronger than any rope.  
A full four minutes passed and Hope’s electronic voice broke the sounds of struggling and heavy breathing that were coming from Lena.  
“I have sealed the electronic breach Miss Luthor. Shall I release the ‘Smart Cuffs.’?”“Yes!” came an exasperated reply from Lena, ‘release the cuffs.”  
A sound similar to an umbrella being folded up and a few “clinks” and Lena lay free on the floor next to the restraints that had folded themselves back into what resembled an oversized smart watch.  
“I’d call that a successful test.” Said Lena to herself, as she stood, rebuttoned her blouse, donned her lab coat, and tried to compose herself after being hogtied by one of her own inventions.


	3. "Weekend Training."

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stories are set in motion as a nostalgic Kara gets in some training with her sister after a very strange weekend.

Supergirl and the Robin Hoods – Chapter Three –   
“Weekend training.”  
The planet Krypton orbited a red star a few dozen light years from Earth. The star exists still, but the planet, now is only in the memories of those few who survived the end of a once-prolific civilization that failed to listen to the very science that once lit their way.   
Earth orbits a yellow sun, but the color of a star – blue, red, yellow… - is something of a misleading way to characterize these giant spheres of fusing elements. All stars emit light across the universe in every color of the spectrum. From gamma and x-rays, through the visible hat humans can perceive, all the way to infrared and radio. It’s the mass of the star that determines where it emits most of the light. Earth has a medium mass star, at least compared to most of the stars in the galaxy. The red sun that once shown on Krypton and her moons is massive by comparison to Earth’s “yellow” star.   
Krypton, too, was massive. Not, so much, in terms of diameter – just a bit large than Earth – but massive in terms of material. Gravity is a function of mass. More mass means that the pull of gravity increases. Because of unique planetary core Krypton was just only slightly larger than Earth, but the gravitational pull was enormous. First worked out by a Physicist from Minnesota, James Kakalios, when he first learned of Kryponians, the gravity with which Kryptonians live – lived – made Earth seem like a child’s “jumpy house.” Several times the pull of the terrestrial home of humans.   
The massive gravity of Krypton, alone, wasn’t enough to account for the extraordinary abilities of Kryptonias on Earth. Their biology, in connection with their home environment, combined with Earth’s more subtle gravitational pull allowed Kryptonian physiology to benefit from the yellow spectral species of the sun. Were it gravitation, alone, then every visitor to another solar system would have abilities not allowed by the physics of their home world.  
Kryptonite, a “souvenir” from the home world of all Kryptonians, emits a specific radiation at the precise frequency that negates the advantage gained from the yellow sun of Earth. In close proximity to a Kryponian, kryptonite can not only interfere with the strength and powers of an off-world Kryptonian – in sufficient concentration – kryptonite can be lethal to the former residents of a planet that once circled a red sun.

Alex sensed her sister Kara was more tense than usual. It might have been the way starred at the same spot from the brewery for a bit longer than usual. It might have been the way Kara was on her second pint while her and J’onn J’onzz were still enjoying their first IPA. Or, more likely, it was the way Kara was gripping the wood handrail next to their table so hard she left her handprint in the redwood.   
One of the other, minor, changes around town since the “Crisis” was the shifting around of heir favorite brewery from mid-town to the waterfront, right next to a “23 –Hour Fitness.” The best part of coming here, now, was enjoying fried food and a great pint while the people doing chin-ups and riding stationary bikes looked out their large windows at their reward for doing all that work.   
Kara never felt that “burn” that the people worked through at the gym. Earth’s gravity and her abilities made even the most difficult tasks seem like a walk around a Kryptoian crystal garden. Kara was even spared the common colds and ailments that most of the inhabitants of this planet had to suffer with. That was until her sister Alex introduced her to the artificial Kryptonite emitters at the DEO. Great for training and a shock for Kara. When picking up a car seems as easy to you as picking up a bag of groceries you tend to get lazy about things like fighting technique and self defense. Alex set her straight with Kara’s first training session under the emerald lights. Alex may have had only “human” strength, but her fighting skills were among the best Kara had seen since her pod reached Earth a dozen years after her cousin Kal El all those years ago.  
“What is it Kara?” asked Alex after taking a sip from her pint.  
Kara was brought back to this reality with the question. J’onm was staring too, waiting for an answer. He could have used his Martian psychic abilities to try and find and answer, but that’s an invasion of privacy. And J’onn was nothing, if not polite.  
“Oh, it’s that robbery yesterday. I didn’t even see the Kryptonite. I didn’t even expect it. I need more practice.”  
“You do;” began Alex. “…which is why J’onn and I lifted some portable Kryptonite emitters from the DEO before we parted ways with them.’  
“Really?” replied Kara anxiously. ‘How? Why?”  
“They’re just the ones we used for training and they take a boat-load of power. But they’re good for about fifteen minutes at-a-time of good ol’ sparing practice, sis.”

“You could probably use it after yesterday, Kara.” Chimed in J’onn.

Kara took a sip from her coffee-stout. Krypton might have been more advanced than Earth, but they never did develop breweries. How advanced could they have been?

_

A few tables away, had Kara been using her enhanced hearing, three prols sat sharing a pitcher of lager and talking revolution. They’d no way of knowing that reality was changed for everyone weeks earlier. It may as well have been that old, philosophical question about how can you tell if all the universe wasn’t created ten minutes ago and all memories were placed in people’s heads just to make them “think” it had been going on forever. The thing is, there’s no way to answer that question. But for these three, and others like them, there was a real – physical – manifestation of what was happening. Quantum waves – and everything is a wave at the quantum level – created just enough interference with what was and was now existed. Essentially, they felt an “echo” of the former world, and it bothered them. Deep down they knew that Lex wasn’t the person he was touted to be. The world was supposed to be a bit more fair and egalitarian. And there wasn’t supposed to be a pseudo-secret agency that was “protecting us from all threats, both alien….and domestic.”  
Some of the proceeds from their museum heist would go to acquiring more technology. Some to those colleagues in the shadows fighting the good fight against the “establishment.” Some to helping shelter and the poor and those left behind by the ‘new Lex order.” And, right now, some to this excellent pitcher of lager sitting between them.  
“So, what was up with Supergirl, man? We can’t just ignore what we saw. She got close and something hit her.” Said Yose.  
“I think it must’ve been something we had. When I was in the DEO database there was all these scrubbed files about ‘Krypto-nite.’” Said Tech. “There was this one file picture of Supergirl in a green cage or something.”  
“That jade statue we took!” said jazz.  
“Yep…” continued Tech. “Let’s get back to the shop. I’m betting that’s not jade.”  
“One more round, then back to the lab….” said the youngest of the three, Yose.   
“Supergirl is just a stooge for those Luthors anyway. If we can shut her down we’d have a big problem off our backs.”

-

No one ever thinks they’re the villain of any story. When the last time anyone had an argument and though; “Wow, I was really wrong. I’m the bad guy.” Well, I mean, it happens: but it’s about as rare as having a day off work with perfect weather or an honest politician. It happens, but ya’ gotta wait for it.   
A “villain checklist” would be helpful.   
1\. Think you’re right while every other being is completely wrong. You might be a villain.

2\. You have a nemesis that is constantly thwarting your plans. One of you might be a villain.  
3\. Finally, you use – and sometimes experiment on – friends and colleagues for the benefit of your plan that, you’re sure, the world will thank you for once it’s come to fruition. Check! You’re a villain.

Lena Luthor had two of the three boxes down. The trick to being a human adult is to embrace your past and make it part of you as you move forward. Lena didn’t, quite, grasp this. For Lena, her past was a thing to be changed, amended, denied, and forgotten about if possible. The problem with this brilliant plan of denial was her brother – well, half brother – Lex. She did have Lex to thank for her retaining pre-crisis memories. She did have Lex to thank for being incredible driven to succeed and backing up her spark of brilliance with years of arduous work. These, little, “thanks” did a poor job of balancing the other side of the scale. Namely, Lex checking all three boxes for “villain” and his ongoing quest to remake the world according to his ideal. The ideals of others? “Others” didn’t count for Lex.  
“How’s the research going, sis?” Lex had a way of sounding sarcastic even when he was doing his best to act sincere.  
“Fine … just fine.” Replied Lena, without looking up from her microscope.  
“You know, sis; Our ‘friend’ Kara and her ‘Super-friends’ are becoming and increasing ….. Irritation in the workings of my DEO.”  
“You’re DEO?” smirked Lena, finally looking up. She wasn’t going to look up right away. Part of her plan of staying strategically cool.  
“Well, the Department of Extranormal Operations is a public agency, on paper anyway.”  
“But it’s your department.” Lena said, completing the thought that Lex had hung there in the air in front of her.  
“Anyway,” continued Lena; “I’ve been testing some things to keep Kara, and her friends …. Subdued, should they become a problem.”  
“Oh, sis! Do tell ….”

-

By Sunday afternoon Kara had tried to get back into some kind of routine. The best way to feel like yourself is to help people, she thought. This was what put Kara apart from mot people. This is what the Monitor meant when he said she was the “Paragon of Hope.” Even when she didn’t feel like herself and she longed for a planet that lived only in memories orbiting a distant red star, she threw herself into looking outward.  
When a civilization, like the Kryptonians, is lost it’s not just the society that’s mourned. It’s an entire ecosystem. A whole, complicated network of living things that will never return. A Kara pushed through Earths atmosphere on the strength of her physiology and radiation from earth’s “yellow” sun, she would have fleeting memories of the little things she missed about her home. Her old home. From crystalline “flowers” the hum of Kryptonian arthropods to tastes and smells now lost forever to space.  
One of her rescues, for the day, was a fisherman whose boat was taking on water and was almost going to make a swim for it.   
After his free ride to the nearest coast guard ship Kara kept a smile on her face even though he’s asked her, after the rescue to; “Say ‘Hi’ to Lex Luthor for me!”  
The next wasn’t, so much, a rescue as a pre-emptive favor. One of thousands that would, likely, go unnoticed. But not to Kara. She’d noticed a potential slide about to happen that would have damaged the main dam that wasn’t far from Central City. Some boulder moving and it was secure … for now.  
Back at J’onn’s her sister, Alex, was waiting for her.   
“Training time, sis.” Said Alex.   
When Alex said “sis” it had a genuine feel and tone. There was a good reason for that; it was genuine. Not at all like the way Lex said “sis” to Lena. Lex would say it almost as a sneer.  
“Uh, yeah … “ said Kara, “but what all this?”

She gestured to J’onn’s training room. Something like a Martian dojo. An area with black, cushioned mats with a wall full of unearthly-looking martial training implements.  
From weights hanging on rope – a Martian version of a bola – to nets and firearms humans could only guess at the meaning of.  
“You’re a great fighter …” began J’onn, sounding more like a college professor than Alex’s Martian ally; “…but Alex has learned to rely on her skills more than you’ve had to. Listen and learn from your sister. Not every opponent will be as ‘easy’ as most you’ve faced.”  
“What else is up?” asked Alex?  
“What do you mean?”  
“I mean, I know that look, Kara. You’re here, but you’re not.”

“It’s just …. I flew in and helped out someone today and they wanted me to say ‘Hi’ to Lex. Like we’re buddies or something.”  
“I know,” said Alex sympathetically. “You’re in a tough spot. People think you and Lex are friends. That ridiculous DEO commercial didn’t help.”  
“Ok … let’s do some sparing.”

J’onn had his portable Kryptonite radiation emitter ready in a corner of the dojo.

“You’ll have fifteen minutes …” began J’onn. “That’s about all this emitter can handle. Then it’ll shut off until it cools down. Kara, you’ll be at regular ‘Earth-normal’ strength. Are you ready?”  
Kara, Supergirl, in her suit and Alex, in her black, now-former DEO outfit took a fighting stance across from each other. A switch was snapped and a slight, green glow filled the room. Kara felt it immediately. There’d be no super-strength helping her for the next quarter of an hour.  
Supergirl went in first, uncharacteristically, spinning through the green light and long October shadows and sweeping Alex’s legs.   
Alex was surprised, as she usually was the first on offense. Alex jumped, missed the leg sweep, regained her balance and parried with a sidekick.  
Kara sensed it was coming and used her cape to block and deflect the kick; a “cape trick” she’d learned from Mon-El.  
“Two points …” laughed J’onn “….on the cape block by Kara.”  
Alex looked at J’onn with a smile. “We’re keeping points now?”  
While Alex looked away Kara spun and this time swept Alex’s leg with her right arm. This time, Alex wasn’t prepared and she hit the matt.  
“Oh, that’s the way it is today?” said Alex, looking up at Kara from the matt.

“That’s the way it is sis...” smiled Kara. They smirked at each other in only a way siblings, who understood each other, could. To some the term; “friendly competition” might seem like a contradiction. To Alex and Kara, helping each other train while hitting the matt was as much a form of communication as talking over a pint. They were sisters to the core.  
Alex arched her back and flipped to her feet.   
“Impressive…” said Kara, as she went in yet again ….  
This time Alex blocked her pulled punch, which was followed by a kick: also blocked.

“You’re getting predictable, sis.” Said Alex.

“Oh yeah?” said Kara as she faked a punch, rolled, and then sprung up with her red boots pushing Alex off balance. As Alex fell Kara reached for a familiar fighting implement on J’onn’s wall. It resembled a bo staff, but had a half-moon-shaped end.  
Before Alex could react, the half moon had one of her wrists pinned to the matt, and Alex with it.  
“Give up, Alex?”

Without a reply, Alex lifter her legs and rolled backwards … breaking the hold on her wrist and getting free to stand next to the wall.  
Kara was feeling winded. Being at human / Earth strength meant she didn’t recover as quickly from all this exertion.

Kara looked to her left to J’onn. “How much time left on that emitter?”

Before a reply came, Alex had reached for a tool on the wall she’d learned to use from Jonn only the previous week. It was three heavy weights, connected to a central knot. A bola … a hunting weapon both on Earth and Mars that effectively wrapped up the limbs of prey.  
Alex spun it twice around her head and let it go so the weights continued in a tangent along their path and wrapped around Kara’s booted ankles.  
Kara’s ankles were drawn tightly together as the weights, finding their target, continued their momentum wrapping the full length of chord around Kara’s ankles and lower legs.  
“Hey!” said Kara. “No fair.”  
“Totally fair!” said Alex. “You have to be ready for everything and anything.

Kara tried to pull her ankles apart but nearly lost her balance. As her arms extended to keep her from falling Alex had grabbed yet another, similar-looking weapon from J’onn’s arsenal. This resembled an oversized slingshot with two pairs of y-shaped ends.   
Alex pointed it towards Kara and pushed a button in the center. Two, smaller bolas with only two-weights apiece shot towards her sister and separated mid-flight.  
The ropes caught Kara’s wrists and the force pulled her wrists behind her. As Kara tried to spin she’d forgotten her ankles were bound and she lost her balance while the wrist bindings did their work …  
Kara found herself on the matt, wrists wrapped and bound behind her and ankles tied as well.  
Alex leapt over to straddle her helpless super-sister. “Give?”

Kara tried to arch her back and free her tied wrists from the base of her back, beneath her cape. “Never!”

“Are Kryptonians ticklish, I wonder?” said Alex.

“Don’t you dare!” said the straddled and bound Kara as she tried to squirm and break free.

“Let’s find out!” said Alex, as she gleefully tickled and teased her now laughing, struggling, and writhing hero-sister.


	4. Chapter Four - "Jazz"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the "Prols," the self-described "Robin Hoods of Central City" plan for an act that will bring world-wide attention to their cause, they know only a certain Kryptonian could stand in their way. "Jazz," a somewhat reluctant member of this pseudo-revolutionary group devises a plan to keep Supergirl at bay while the "Prols" make their boldest statement yet against the rising power of the Luthors and the DEO.

Chapter Four – Jazz –   
Space is w weird thing for most humans to grasp. The thing is, jest that. Space is a THING. A real, actual thing, capable of being twisted and bent. Stretched and squeezed. Light - all the forms of light, from visible to X-rays to radio waves and the microwaves in ovens – all travels at the same speed through space. This speed limit makes it inconvenient if you want to get somewhere really far away quickly. But it’s was worked out by Albert Einstein on Earth almost one hundred years ago. Both pre and post crisis. Light speed is constant. You could never get from Krypton to Earth in a conventional rocket. Well, not unless you had about twenty thousand years to pass. I mean, sure, you could travel really close to the speed of light and there’s this amazing thing that happens where time, for you, slows down. So, it might be one week for you but – by the time you arrive at your destination – ten thousand years may have passed and you’ve totally missed happy hour.   
Fortunately for anyone traveling between solar systems, there’s a – sort of – way around the rules. It’s like the infield fly rule for cosmology; a bit of a “work around.” You can’t break the speed of light but you can find paths and tunnels and you can bend space so that you can cut years off the journey – and make it to Earth in time for last call.  
“Jazz” made it to the CCBC (Central City Brewing Company) in time for last call. That’s where she met her friend “Yose” and had her idea. Her idea to hold on to Supergirl, long enough for them to carry out their plan.

-

Jazz was alone at her table, watching the bubbles in her stout circle and thinking about how much it looked like a galaxy, spinning in space. She was lost in the image for a moment, then opened her well-worn notebook and jotted down a few sentences with some equations in the margins. Jazz’s red hair gave her something of tunnel vision on her writing. At least three guys from the brewery almost tried to walk up and sit next to her, all prepared with a brilliant pickup line. Jazz had learned to navigate this strange cult of guys hitting on her and the ones she talked treason with – the “Prols.”   
“How do you like that stout?” was one of the less-brilliant opening lines one of the prospective twentie-somethings almost asked her that evening.  
“If you’re waiting for someone, I’m here.” Was another from the guy at the end of the bar, who apparently thought it was a great idea to get a tattoo of a fish on one forearm as some kind of talking point about his preferred way of spending the weekends.  
“Becky? Becky is that you?” was the last – and decidedly worst – of the pickup lines that was almost used on her that evening. The idea was, hatched in the mind of the guy on his third pint of lager who was pretending to watch the baseball game, was to act as if he was mistaken in seeing al old friend of his but would use it as an opportunity to sit and regale her with stories of himself and how lucky she was to have happened to look like his imaginary old friend “Becky.”  
In every case, as the guys approached, they all changed their minds.   
Partly, Jazz gave this impression, as you got closer, of being much stronger than someone of her average size would be. She always wore her clothes lose and comfortable and, despite an extra layer as autumn took hold, a person could tell she gave an impression of quiet strength.  
Maybe it was that Irish upbringing by a mother who had taught her daughter to be tough as she, herself, had to go it alone when Jazz’s father died in that accident a decade before. After her father was gone, she found the focus and concentration she needed in books and a sport introduced to her by a friend. Rock climbing. Actually, less of a sport and more of a mental discipline.  
Maybe it was the way her emerald eyes weren’t scanning the pub for potential dates but seemed to be searching for something beyond the tables and pints of this Central City gathering place.  
Mostly, it was the subtle intimidation of someone so striking and confident - with her thoughts and notepad - and the feeling like you might end up with a pint in your face if you were to disturb her.  
Jazz knew that both gravity and light decreased in intensity with a square of the distance. As you drop in distance from an object, the gravity – or the light it emits – drops off quickly. That’s what must’ve happed to Supergirl with the artifacts they took. (“Redistributed” according to “Yose.”)   
The radiation from one of them weakened Supergirl as she approached. Closer proximity meant a stronger dose. It obeyed the same laws as gravity and light. Why should it be any different?  
She felt the gravity shift next to her.   
“He Shannon…” said Yose.  
“We don’t use our real names in public, you know that!”  
“Oh, c’mon … Shannon Meghan Long … seriously. You might buy into all that ‘Prol’ stuff but right now we’re just some friends having a pint.

Yose, had strolled into the pub and spun the chair next to her backwards to sit in it backwards in that ridiculous guy fashion. Shannon – Jazz – felt a kinship with these “Prols” because of this vague, shared feeling of something being off in the universe, but she never felt close to the guys in her “room.”   
The Prols developed all kinds of little rules for naming and getting together to talk about their subversive plans. One was the code name – which Yose had already broken when he called Jazz by her given name. The other was the way they organized themselves. “Room” was short for chatroom. That’s where Yose, Jazz, and Tech first met. Along with a cadre of others searching the Internet for like-minded people who felt that things weren’t quite right.   
“OK … Joe Diablo, if that’s even your real name.”  
“Oh, it is.” Joe said. “Di-a-blo” He repeated, slowly.   
No one was quite so in love wit the sound of his own voice as Yose.  
“whatcha writing there anyway?”  
Next to Shannon’s pint her notebook - that looked like it had been dragged along behind her as she rode her old mountain bike through Central City – lay closed.  
“My journal, genius.” Said Shannon.  
“Y’know , most people write that stuff in a blog or something.”  
“Which is why I use this….” Said Shannon – Jazz – “Sometimes I like to go decidedly low-tech.”  
“Yeah, you like still use pencils” said Yose. 

“So…” began Shannon, “I think I know how we can keep Supergirl out of the way for long enough so we can complete ‘High Tide.’”  
That was one of their other rules. Projects designed to support their burgeoning insurrection were only referred to by their cryptic, innocuous names.  
“And how on Earth are we going to keep Supergirl at bay while we try to pull off ‘High Tide?’” asked Yose.   
“You know she’s the only one who could possibly stop this,” began Shannon. “I was thinking back on the museum, from last week. I know what it must’ve been.”  
“I’m listening, …” said Yose.  
With that, Shannon leaned in close, and tried to explain everything she could – in as simple of terms as she thought Yose could grasp – of radiation, Kryptonite, and how to subdue a Girl of Steel.  
“So, if what you’re saying is right …” said Yose, “We have to get her close – like really close – to that green thing that was in the shield we took.”   
Yose, like most of the guys Shannon had fallen in with in this group, wasn’t much for being subtle. Most guys in the group pretended to understand half of what Shannon was saying and then tried to push through their own plan of blowing something up or taking over some computer network to make a statement.   
Shannon wanted to help with this plan and wanted to be sure that no one was hurt at the same time. An injury-free revolution. Her dad had despised violence, and that trait seemed to have been passed to her. Jazz – Shannon – felt she could put up with these ridiculous guys because she grounded the movement. After all, if the revolutionaries – the “Robin Hoods” of Central City became like the Luthors, then what was the point of changing things at all?

The things taken form the museum storage, by Yose, Jazz, and Tech, we’re mostly unremarkable. They could be sold and fenced to various people and the target was chosen by Tech using a complex program he’s written that balanced the chances of getting caught against the potential financial benefit. Interestingly, it meant a lot of small jobs. “Flying under the radar” as it were.   
A paining, a few small statues, a tapestry, and the object that Jazz correctly identified as the one that weakened the Girl of Steel. It was a small, stylized bronze shield. Out-of-place in a collection of early North American relics. It wasn’t the bronze that was of interest, it was the green crystal – off center, with a slight glow – that Shannon figured must’ve been the key. From Tech’s snooping around the computers of the DEO, they knew Supergirl and this green, non-native mineral had a strange relationship. Shannon had identified Kryptonite.  
“And how, my dear ‘Jazz’ do you propose we get that green stuff close to Supergirl again?” asked Yose.  
“Leave that to me.” Said Shannon.

The notebook on the table was closed now. But a peek inside read…

Saturday, October 2nd …  
I never used to keep a journal. But these last couple of weeks feels like the thing to do. Anyway I went to a very interesting class last week.  
After the museum thing the boys were sitting around talking about how to “eliminate any problems.”  
I don't know. It’s like this weird feeling like part of me is missing. I know what they're planning. I know they want to make a big statement. I just think it can be done without hurting anyone.   
I always walk around feeling like dad is looking over my shoulder. God I miss him.   
Most of the “assets,” as the boys like to call them, from last weekend went to “the cause.” Still, These guys are just like guys everywhere. Their solution to things is to blow stuff up and think about the consequences later.  
I’m sticking around because I think I can make a difference and bring attention to the Luthors of the world.   
So, that being said … after we had our run in with Supergirl at the museum I thought we were all going to be in jail.  
“Tech” is just like all the rest of them. He might be brilliant with a computer but just like all of the Prols he thinks we’re going to change everyone’s mind just by being radical. Must be a guy thing.   
Speaking of “changing minds” I had that weird feeling again all last week that I’m forgetting something important.  
Kind of like when I had time to climb. I’d get halfway up a wall and suddenly remember something I didn’t bring. Not easy when you’re roped in a thousand feet up on a granite cliff!  
SO … dear diary … Speaking of ropes and concentration... With my brain feeling all scrambled a friend talked me into going with her to a rope course. I know about every know there is, of course, with all that climbing but she said it would help me “slow down and concentrate.”   
I think it might have been the right course at the right time in so many ways! For one thing, it might help us take care of our “Super” problem and, for another, it was fun to be tied up!  
Yep … tied up.   
We walked in to that new café south of Market Street and they had a course going on tying up your partner. Liv had done it before but all I’d ever used rope for was getting to the top of a pitch.  
I’ve been around rope my whole climbing life and thought I could get out of anything … but Live was an incredible roper!

I think we could totally use this to keep the girl of steel out of our way while we make that statement of the century against the Luthors!

I’ll talk about that later. 

When Liv asked me to bring my climbing ropes I never imagined I’d end up trying to escape them. It’s like the concentration of climbing applied to tying someone up.  
Liv had me put my wrists behind my back. She began there with about fifty feet of my old, blue, climbing rope.   
My wrists were behind me and Live found the bite of the rope and wound it four or five times around them. That would have been no problem to escape, but then she brought the rope around the center of the wrists a few more times and then criss-crossed the rope.   
There was no way my wrists were getting out. And I know my knots.

With the rest of the rope she criss-crossed my chest and then the rope went around my waist. It was like having on one of my climbing harnesses only this one was made of rope. My wrist were brought the the small of my back where they were secured and then Liv let me work at the knots with the rest of the class for a while.   
It was amazing. Strong and effective and with the knots places just out of reach there was no way to get out. The lady running the class was telling everyone a story about how Houdini never messed with roped in his escape shows. He stuck to cuffs and locks because if you’re well tied, you’re not getting out. I could see what she meant.  
Before it was my turn to try my ropes on Liv she at me down in a chair in the café and tied my legs in. Ankles, above and below the knees, even tied me to the chair. I tried but there was no way I was getting out before Liv let me out. I have to say, though, it was strangely relaxing being tied so well. I was like a “rope-cation.” I could picture doing that again. After some struggling and trying to get free you just kind of give in to the fact that you’re not going anywhere for a while. It gave me time to enjoy it. I different kind of meditation, that’s for sure.  
Ok … time for me to try and remember what it was I’m forgetting. Catch you later diary … Jazz.”

\-----

Only six blocks away there was one person – well, one Martian anyway – that could have helped Jazz – Shannon – remember what she, and everyone but a few, had forgotten. A world before the Luthors. A world before the “Crisis.” A world without “Prols” finding each other out of a shared sense of frustration and the feeling that something was terribly wrong with the world.   
J’onn J’onzz was coaching Nia Nal through some exercises to control her burgeoning powers.   
“You powers are strong ….” Said J’onn, “…but you must work on control.”

Dreamer was in her Blue suit, working on casting energy bands on holding objects fast.   
“The energy drops as the distance increases. Try again.”

Dreamer took a breath and a fighting stance. Her and J’onn faced each other with the look of two boxers about to face off in a ring. But this was in the new Watchtower; J’onzz place to monitor and protect Central City.

As Dreamer was about to try to through an energy field around J’onn they were both interrupted by the sound of red boots landing on the balcony outside.  
“Supergirl!” said J’onn, happy to see his former DEO partner and friend.   
“What brings you to ‘Watchtower’?”  
“J’onn, Nia …” said Kara, stepping down from the balcony and into the open space where they’d been training.  
“I just needed to see some friendly faces. You would not believe how stressful it is pretending to be ‘friends’ with the Luthors in public and knowing what we know about him.” Said Kara.  
“I know, Supergirl …” began J’onn, “…but the best way to keep track of him is from inside the DEO. You’re doing a wonderful job. I know it has to be hard for you to keep up this public charade.”  
“You have no idea, J’onn.” Said Kara.

A bell sounded and Dreamer pushed a button to let in Alex Danvers.

A break for lunch, talk, and laughter as Kara could sit with J’onn, Dreamer, her sister, and just be herself for a while.

“So, they actually have me making appearances next week as part of a DEO public relations thing.” Said Kara. “Can you believe that?”  
“What, like that commercial you did?” asked Dreamer.  
“Worse. I’m scheduled to throw out a baseball at the playoffs, launch a ship down at the yards, and even meet with the ‘Central City Explorer Scouts’ at the park. This is ridiculous!” said Supergirl.  
“Hang in there sis …” said Alex. “You’re doing great.”

\--

Five-days later a tired Supergirl was flying to the last of her commitments for the DEO that week. Even Kryptonians feel tied after too many places to visit.  
Kara landed in Central City Park where a group of scouts, the “Central City Explorers” had been expecting her.  
There, dressed as a scout leader, stood “Jazz.” She had a backpack filled with rope, and a plan to kidnap the Girl of Steel.


	5. Chapter 5 - Captured! -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara has one more public relations appearance for the weekend, before getting some much-needed down time. However, her 'down-time" is extended when she encounters kryptonie infused rope!

Chapter 5 – “Friends in Need.”

Friction. Not one of the fundamental forces of nature. It arises from the electromagnetic force, the interaction of atoms and molecules at the microscopic level. It a bit like this … if you try and move a book across a table by sliding it, it resists and then, finally, moves. Now, Isaac Newton had the insight to discover that if you took away the table and gave the book a push, it would move until something stopped it. The book stops on the table because it’s like your taking two pieces of sandpaper and pulling the rough sides over each other. The rough places make it difficult to move. Now, presumably, the book and table are a bit smoother than sand paper but the principal is the same. Microscopic resistance that builds up and inhibits motion.  
I the case of rope, an individual piece of nylon or cotton isn’t very strong. But if you take millions of those pieces and weave them together, you have the makings of a long, flexible, and beautiful example of friction in action. Knots hold because of friction. And, often, pulling against the knots simply makes them tighter….

Thank goodness it was the last stop of he day, Kara thought. She’d had four appearances this Sunday, interspersed with three impromptu rescues and assists. Everything from a forest fire in the Sierra to a water tower collapse half way across the state. This was going to be fun, at least. A stop with the Central City Explorers – a teenage hiking and adventure camp that she remembers attending herself, one summer, when her adoptive family visited Central City.   
“And here she is!” came the announcement over a speaker in the park as Supergirl flew a circle over the crowd and settled gently on the stage set up for the scouts and audience. The stage rose about 4 meters above the park with a semicircular view of the surrounding city and trees, now turning red and orange with the coming autumn.  
Kara took a quick glimpse of the scout-leader and crowd as claps and cheers went up. Usually, Kara would have remembered her DEO protocols, taught to her by Alex herself.  
1\. Fly around once and do a quick x-ray survey of the area.  
2\. Listen, with her exceptional Kryptonian hearing, for anything that seemed unusual.  
3\. Check in with Alex, or someone from the DEO.

This was scouts and a public relations stop before she could finally settle for whatever few hours the weekend had remaining. It was one time when Kara’s oversight of the protocols let her miss some subtle clues that something was not, quite, right.

\- Two days prior – Friday evening –   
\-   
Shannon, “Jazz,” entered the warehouse to the sound of grinding and machines humming.   
“What are you two making?” she directed her question to Tech and Yose.  
“See for yourself. “ said Tech as a loud machine that resembled a lathe was slowing turning out coils of black, nylon rope.  
“Rope. Big deal. I rock climb …. I have piles of rope.” said Jazz.  
“Not like this …” said Yose. “Follow the machine.”

Indeed, the black rope continued through a small hole and into a small box that was filling the warehouse with grinding sounds.

“Remember our haul from the museum?” started Tech, not even bothering to look up or wait for an answer. “I’m grinding the stone from that shield and using pressure to infuse the dust into this black rope. It’s subtle. Just barely three parts per thousand … but the nylon is perfect for holding the particles and ….”

“Ok, enough, speak English …” interrupted Jazz.

“The rock form that relic was a relic too. A relic of Krypton, Supergirl’s home world.”  
Tech said. “This isn’t enough to hurt her and, if I’m right, it’s not enough for her to even notice unless she gets very, very close. But put this around her, and we’ll have our Girl of Steel out of the way long enough for the plan.”  
“THE plan?” said Jazz. “We’re really going through with that?”  
“It’s the first giant strike against the Luthors and Supergirl….” Said Yose. “And, we promise, before we blow the dam we’ll give Central City time to evacuate. No one will be hurt but it will make the statement we need. The WORLD needs….”  
“You know how I feel about it. NO one gets hurt. Property is expendable, people aren’t. My dad taught me that before ….” Jazz’s voice trailed off ….she stopped mid sentence and walked out.  
Yose and Tech gave each other a look, and then called after her; “Come back in an hour and we’ll talk about the plan for Sunday.”

\- Central Park – 

Had Kara done her usual diligence, and not been exhausted form a day of being Supergirl – instead of just being Kara Danvers – she’s had heard the faint, muffled grunt of a scout leader tied and gagged in the SUV that sat below the stage.   
Had Kara noticed the scouts she’d have picked up that they didn’t really know their current scout leader, who’d come in at the last minute saying she was doing the demonstration today as their regular leader was feeling ill.  
She’d have checking in with the DEO and might not have been so tired as to not notice the almost-imperceptible green glow of Kryptonite-infused ropes that sat on the stage.

“Welcome, Supergirl!” said Shannon “Jazz” Long with the microphone. As the cheer went up from the two hundred plus crown Shannon did a subtle check of her own wig and straightened her “borrowed” scout leader uniform.

As demonstrations and public appearances go, Kara was in her zone and this was her place. The crowd, the kids, the scouts, were all impressed with her displays of flying acrobatics, bending of steel into pretzels, and using heat-vision for everything from popcorn to hot chocolate.  
After forty-five minutes, her time was winding down and, even though she wanted to stay longer, Kryptonians get tired too.  
“One last thing here, Supergirl …” came Shannon with the mic.

“The teenage explorers are working on their merit badges. They’ve done CPR, first aid, and – now – they’re working on their knots and ropes since Central City is right here along the coast.”  
Kara smiled. She hadn’t remembered this part when she was briefed but she went along with the entertainment.  
“So…” continued Shannon, “…you’ve shown that steel is no match for you, but did you know that Houdini himself couldn’t break ropes? He was a lock expert. Do, you, Supergirl, think you can escape from some of our basic knots?”  
Kara smiled and hammed it up for the audience. 

“Well sure … “ Kara smiled and laughed for the scouts. “Bring it on.”

Two CCE’s (Central City Explorers) came forward and Kara crossed her wrists in front of her … They wound and tied blue rope around her wrists and cinched it with the knot they'd just learned, a solid figure eight. A classic rock-climbing knot.

“Oh, wow, you guys are good at that!” said Kara. 

There was a countdown over the loudspeaker and a “One, two … three!” and Kara easily pulled her wrists apart and broke the half-inch braided nylon ropes.

Just as Kara went to exit and wave, the “scout leader” took the microphone.

“How about just one more try … this time we’ll make it just a bit tougher with Supergirl’s wrists behind her cape …”

Unexpected, but Kara figured she could do just one more and fly off to be home in her apartment by 4:00.

“Scout-leader” Shannon, “Jazz” Long, this time, reached for a few length of black rope sitting near the edge of the stage.  
Supergirl spun around and presented her crossed wrists behind her back for the CCE scout-leader to tie.  
As the soft, black, nylon rope touched her Kara felt just the slightest bit dizzy. It was so minor she knew it must be from a frantic day of rescues and appearances.  
Shannon went to work … Shannon would the black rope five times around Kara’s wrists, and quickly tied a double-knot. The windings were neat, close, but not too tight. This didn’t last for long as she now took the rope and cinched it between Supergirl’s wrists, then criss-crossed the rope several times and tied a very secure knot that would be out of reach of any fingers.  
Kara felt strange. Something wasn’t right. She allowed Shannon to apply yet one more rope, this time just above her elbows. Shannon found the middle of the rope, the bite, and weaved several turns about Supergirl’s elbows and took the remaining slack and passed it several times about the center … making what was, essentially, rope cuffs.

Shannon then took Kara, Supergirl, and spun her so they were face to face. And, in that moment, wig or not, Kara recognized they eyes of the lady in the grey jumpsuit from the museum. She knew her and just as Kara went instinctively to break her bonds, a bell rang from offstage.  
“Oh, that was our time and Supergirl has to go …” said Shannon.   
This would have been the time for Supergirl to easily break through the rope, for her to apprehend Shannon, for her to save the day and herself.  
It would have been that time had Kara the strength to break the rope. Tech and Yose had the concentration of the kryptonite just right.  
Kara was whisked offstage to what everyone assumed was her next rescue. Instead, just offstage, Yose and tech were there with several coils of the kryptonite-tainted nylon.   
Kara pulled, squirmed against the ropes holding her wrists and elbows close. Then she went to do something she almost never had occasion to do. She was about to call for help.  
Jazz had anticipated this and pulled the com mic from her ear so she couldn’t yell to the DEO.   
Jazz took her hand and muffled the Girl of Steel while Yose and Tech went to work adding turn after turn, wind after wind, of the rope. Booted ankles were crossed and tied; more rope was applied above and below her knees. Rope even was wound around her waist to anchor her now helpless wrists and arms.  
Kara was being completely and effective bound.  
When Jazz finally removed her hand, the Girl of Steel felt it replaced with a knotted, cinched cloth. One last bit of Kryptonite-infused nylon – this time in the form of a scarf – that would effectively silence Kara as she was carried and deposited in the back of the waiting SUV beneath the stage.  
Kara twisted, pulled, arched and tried to escape her bonds; but Jazz had taught her accomplices well. Kara was now completely the bound and gagged captive of the three museum thieves.


	6. Chapter 6 - Memories -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kara learns of the "prols" plan to flood the city; but is willingly recaptured for the sake of Lena.

Chapter Six – Memories –   
Imagine a still pond with a stone breaking the surface and making symmetric ripples, spreading from the temporary hole in the water out the touch the shore in all directions. This is like memory. If you took a photograph of the waves, and didn’t know where the stone went below the surface, you could calculate the source, the incident that made the pattern.  
The Crisis had “overwritten” memories like dropping a larger stone into that same pond would overtake the smaller waves. But, under the larger ripples and currents the smaller peaks and crests could still be teased out. Recreated. Retrieved.  
This is what J’onn had done with those who had been through The Crisis. The Monitor’s powers of amending history at the quantum level were impressive, but not unlimited. The deeper reality would always remain, if the waves were recognized …. Or not.

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth  
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;  
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth  
Of sun-split clouds, – and done a hundred things  
You have not dreamed of – wheeled and soared and swung …  
\- John Gillespie Magee - 

Kara was used to flying. Used to breaking the surly bonds of Earth … but not like this. Not carried aloft, carried like a swaddled child by a lady her age while wrists and ankles were crossed and tied with rope treated to emit just the right amount of Kryptonite radiation to keep her at a Terran level of strength.   
Across town a scout leader tried her ropes for the twenty third time, but she’d long since stopped counting the attempts. Not, exactly, as she planned the day. She’d been talked into the scouting thing.   
“It’ll be great.” Her friends said. “You’ll love it…” she was assured.   
To be fair, she thought, with the week she had it wasn’t all that bad being tied up under a stage, waiting for the park crew to dismantle things. It was a bit of a break from responsibilities and she’d decided this was a good as reason as any to take the next day off from her less-than-exciting accounting job downtown.  
Still, it would have been a bit more relaxing had the crew of three - that had trussed her and stashed her below the stage - didn’t place into her ear the communication piece that began the day in Supergirl’s ear.  
They’d, evidently, wanted her to be found. So, while she – strangely – never felt she was in any real danger – she did begin to wonder why they bothered. Twice she’d almost drifted off to sleep, wrapped in the comfort of climbing ropes. But, both times, she was brought back to her wrapped reality with idle chatter from disembodied voices in her left ear.  
She knew rescue was soon when they began asking for Supergirl specifically. Not being able to answer, it was only a matter of time.  
Alex was the first to suspect something wasn’t, quite, right. Which was kind of ironic, considering that J’onn was the team member who was tuned into psychic frequencies.   
What humans termed “psychic” J’onn would have explained as sensitivity to quantum phenomena. This was why J’onn could restore memories and see the underlying patterns. The waves with which the Monitor overwrote reality didn’t erase the original pattern. Like a pond with waves that can be traced back to a source; J’onn could recreate the memories that were “splashed” over.  
Alex had called in a few favors at the new DEO. Friends who would always be loyal to her and Supergirl but were so far along with profit-sharing and corporate gym memberships that they were content to lay low and take direction from the Luthors. Hey, a paycheck was paycheck.   
“Supergirl, please respond….”  
“Nothing, Alex …” came the reply on her phone after she’d called an old friend at the DEO.  
“Well, can you give me her location?” asked Alex.  
“Sure. She’s still at CC Park - according to her comms.” Said her DEO mole.  
“That ended hours ago …” With that, Alex left the conversation unfinished and called J’onn and Dreamer. Ten minutes later they were in Central Park, honing in on a comm signal coming from the grandstand, which was just beginning to be broken down by the crew that helped set up the Central City Explorer event.  
Some bunting moved and some plywood set aside, and there … in a scout uniform with the comm in her ear, was a disheveled scout leader who looked at her rescuers with pleading eyes and asked for a glass of water once her gag was removed.  
Alex found the comm in her ear as Dreamer and J’onn undid the climbing ropes.  
“Supergirl’s comm. ….Somebody has her!” said Alex.

“Who did this to you?” asked J’onn, of the now-free scoutmaster who was sitting cross-legged in a pile of purple ropes.  
As she related her story to her rescuers, never really questioning why they were dressed as they were – after all, Halloween was only a week away – she described three people – a lady and two men. The guys held her while the woman applied rope. She remembered the name “Jazz” being uttered at one point, and the almost gentle skill with which the rope was applied. Neatly, comfortably. She’d been tied well enough to hold her for a few hours, but the rope didn’t cross uncomfortably and the knots didn’t press against her skin.   
“It was almost like they were concerned for my comfort.” She related. Especially the lady they called “Jazz.”

A cup of coffee later and a drive home and the scout leader was back with her roommate with a tale of rope and rescue, while J’onn, Alex, and Dreamer were left heading to their computers with a pile of purple climbing rope.

Supergirl was carried into the warehouse by Jazz and brought past the makeshift command center – with screens angled towards three chairs and a tangled assortment of oscilloscopes and wires on folding tables scattered about. Beyond the center of the warehouse were disused offices, which had been turned into the lowest of low-cost housing for these want-to-be Robin Hoods.   
Tech and Yose’s rooms were easy enough to pick out. Follow the trail of candy bar wrappers and old coffee cups. The decorations in the boy’s rooms was decidedly Spartan, save for taped magazine articles that either concerned themselves with the Luthors or the latest technology.  
Shannon’s room was a bit different. More personal mementos and a steel-framed bed that looked comfortable with pillows and covers compared to the cots in the boy’s rooms.  
They’d been living here, rent-free thanks to a bit of hacking, until the warehouse’s scheduled demolition in about a month. Then, it would be time to find another place to live off the grid. But, by then, their plan to put the “prol movement” on the map would have changed this area anyway, and – likely – would have washed this warehouse off the map, along with most of downtown Central City.  
Supergirl still twisted her wrists and tried to fight her bonds, as Jazz carried her and set her down, gently, on her own bed.  
“Here … stay comfortable … you won’t be here long …” said Jazz, as she deposited the Girl of Steel on her comforter.  
Kara felt like a kid that had been carried to bed. The difference, of course, was she had her wrist tied behind her and was tied at the ankles and knees. She knew she was still in the city. The van ride wasn’t that far. But the kryptonite in the ropes interfered with her x-ray vision, and the best she could do was sit up and start asking the standard questions.  
“What? Why? … How ….” Began Kara …

Shannon pulled up a chair. Framed pictured in her room showed her in sunlight, with a taller man, not one of the other two who were now going about some task in the warehouse. Pictures of summer days and rock climbing on the granite cliffs outside of the city. Pictures of a smiling Shannon Long, so different from the one holding Supergirl captive at the moment.

“Before you begin all of those cliché’ questions, Supergirl, “ began the redhead from her chair, “…just know you’re not going to be hurt in any way. We just need you to …. Relax, for a bit, while we do one little thing.”

“Relax?” began Kara. “Seriously?” Supergirl pulled her bound wrists from behind her back, around her cape, just far enough to be seen by Shannon. “Relax tied up?” 

“Yes, Relax. The Luthors can do without you far a day … “

“What have you done? Why can’t I break these?” started Kara.

“There’s no harm in telling you.” Said Shannon. “Kryptonite, my friend. Just enough in the ropes to let you know what it’s like to be one of us. To be human. Sorry we had to do this, but you’re the only one who could have stopped our statement against your friends, the Luthors.”  
“They’re NOT my friends …” started Kara.  
There must have been something about her tone that caught Shannon’s attention.  
“You’re their pet! Their showgirl! Flying around dressed like a cheerleader and doing their bidding.” Said Shannon, with more than a bit of edge to her voice.  
“We’re going to show this city, and the world, that the Luthors can be hurt, and they don’t control everything.”  
“Listen …” said Kara, “I know this is going to be hard to believe, but things aren’t what they seem … at ALL …”  
By now Kara had assessed her surroundings and noticed the personal pictures on the wall.  
“Is that you?” began Kara, with a calmer, more diplomatic tone.

“Yes…” came the terse reply from Jazz as she gathered a few things and readied to join Tech and Yose.

“Who’s that with you in the pictures? He’s older than you…. Your brother? Dad?”

Shannon “Jazz” Long paused in the doorway, half considered regagging her super prisoner, then turned to Supergirl and said; “He’s someone who’s gone now and someone who would have been proud of what we’re about to do. You’ll be fine. Enjoy a break from your ‘super duties.’ Lie back, relax, and tomorrow at this time you’ll be free to fly.”

Shannon left he room and headed to the lights over Tech and Yose, who were having an animated conversation right up until Jazz was in sight. Suddenly acting like two school kids who’d been caught by the teacher, they stopped talking.  
Kara was left alone on a bed to twist and turn in well-tied ropes. Knots out of reach and wrists behind her. So this was what it felt like to be a human damsel in distress, she thought.  
“What are you guys talking about?” Jazz asked as she approached the two.  
“Uh, just going over the dam specs.”

Behind them, on one of the large screens set up over their workstation, was the Central City Dam project: A monumental concrete structure bringing power to the city and backing up a freshwater lake into the granite canyon beyond. A dam that, if breached, would wash out half of Central City and the DEO along with it. A dam with explosives placed in key locations - over the last week - to achieve the goal of the prols. The goal of getting noticed.  
“And the city evacuation plan? That’s set, right?” asked Shannon.

Yose and Tech gave each other the subtlest of looks. “Yes, of course, said Yose. There won’t be a soul left in the city once it goes … just new crews to cover the washing away of the Luthor’s building.’  
“Good.” said Jazz, Remember, no one gets hurt.”

“No one.” said Yose.

“Anything? Can you get anything from these?” Alex pleaded with J’onn, almost frantic in her tone.  
“Give me some time …” said J’onn, as he held coils of purple climbing rope and closed his eyelids tightly.   
“J’onn could sense the hidden quantum waves of reality, and even sense the residual signature form an object someone recently held. It wasn’t exact, and it took superhuman concentration. Fortunately, J’onn was not human.  
In the dream-like state of focus, J’onn could see someone. A man. Maybe fifty years old, fit… someone who looked like he’s spent time outside …  
“I’m getting something …” J’onn said.

“Laughter. A lady and man, climbing with this rope. I can feel the granite. It’s sunny … warm … “ J’onn continued.

“I’m seeing things the way they were … not they way they are. It’s murky. “

“Pre-crisis …” said Dreamer. 

“Exactly …” said J’onn. Continuing with his eyes shut but acknowledging Dreamer’s insight.

“He's falling! I see him falling….” J’onn suddenly shouted.

“NO!” said J’onn, echoing the voice of Shannon in his vision.

J’onn snapped out of his vision. “What was it? What did you see?” asked Dreamer.

“A man and his daughter climbing in the granite hills above Central Lake. He fell, lost ….” Said J’onn.

“But, there’s something else … I’ve seen this man before. He’s familiar.”

Alex rolled her chair over to a computer … “Can you recreate his face? We could look through the DEO database.”

“I’ll get to work …”

Back at the waterfront, gulls gathered for the evening in the eaves of the old cannery and inside three “prols” were working under lights at a table with a diagram of Central Dam in front of them. The same table where they’d recently, tapped into Lena Luthor’s feed from her office. The same table where they planned to sound the tsunami warning sirens to evacuate the city ahead of their plan.

Kara had been rendered weaker because of the kryptonite in the black, nylon rope. But that didn’t make Kara helpless. In a room just past the center of the warehouse Kara had been busy. She may have had “only” human strength, but she had all her ingenuity.

It took some effort, but she’s reached the knots holding her booted ankles and was able to make loosen them. Some slow turns and twists later, and her ankles came free. Not enough rope fell from her to give her back her Kryptonian strength, but it was progress.

Yose, Jazz, and Tech were engrossed in their screens while Kara scooched off the bed and used her wrists, behind her, to pull a framed picture from the bedside. A soft tap and there was a shard of glass available to cut the nylon. 

Kara had been drunk before, tossing back a few with Mon El and having a bit too much Chardonnay on game night. This was another way Earth had it all over Krypton. Sure, Krypton might have had stronger gravity, better technology, and some seriously complex architecture … but they had never invented a pub.

Kara worked and sawed the black rope and with each tiny movement, a bit more came lose. But that feeling of having one-too-many would linger for a bit. Kryptonite interfered with the Kryptonian equivalent of mitochondria, robbing Kara of her usual strength around earth’s relatively smaller, yellow sun. This had the effect of slowing her thoughts just a bit. Like that groggy feeling before having that first cup of coffee.

“Is she secure in there?” asked Yose …

“She’s fine.” Said Shannon, who didn’t look up but was intensely studying the schematic of the Central City Dam. Her specialty was the engineering, not the computer end of things. She left that to the boys that had rooms full of candy wrappers and old coffee cups.

About the time the word “fine” was fading in the echo of the rafters there was a sound from Shannon’s room like glass breaking. Which, as it turned out, was exactly what it was. Another of the framed pictures on Shannon’s nightstand fell and the trio rushed in just as Kara was removing the last of her ropes.

Shrugging off the last of her dizziness Kara moved with swiftness that made her a blue-red blur and held Yose and Jazz, each by an arm.  
Tech, who’d lagged behind, had one last card up his sleeve. And, like any good poker player, played it now before he was flown off to the DEO with his comrades.   
“Supergirl! Wait! You value your friend Lena?”

This rouse might not have played so well normally, but Kara was still reeling a bit from her experience … Tech was backing up, past the table holding more Krypton-infused rope … back to a computer monitor and keyboard.  
“We HAVE her Supergirl. Let them go now and she’ll be spared.”

“Spared?” Said Kara. “What’s that supposed to mean? I heard your plan. It will never work. Blowing a dam and flooding the DEO along with half of downtown? How many people will THAT spare?”  
“Supergirl …” said Shannon, from her side, “I promise, we’re evacuating the city first. No one will get hurt.”  
Supergirl gave a wry grin and laughed … “You’ve GOT to be kidding. You’re all going in with me.”  
“And what of her?” Tech spun a screen towards Kara and his captive compatriots, a screen with Lena Luthor writhing in a hogtie wearing smartcuffs.  
It was a replay of the footage the prols collected when they’d hacked into the DEO, but Kara didn’t know that.   
“There she is, right now Supergirl. Your boss, your friend …”  
“She’s neither and I don’t believe you …” interrupted Kara …

“Fine …” said Tech … trying to play this as cool as possible. “You might be faster that a speeding bullet … but you’ll never find her and you can take us in … but your friend Lena will be washed away along with the DEO.”  
“You’re bluffing.” Said Kara.

“Am I Supergirl? You want to roll those dice? Let them go and Lena Luthor survives. Take us in, and I guarantee you’ll NEVER find her.”

Kara stood there … a slight relaxing in her grip on the arms of Shannon and Yose.

“Last chance Supergirl … go ahead, take us in. But say goodbye to Lena …”

The prols couldn’t possibly fathom the history Kara had with Lena. The Crisis, the way Kara felt she’d betrayed Lena by not revealing herself as Supergirl sooner. Tech had no way of knowing he’d found her deepest vulnerability.

Kara released Shannon and Yose …

“Good Choice Supergirl. I promise, no harm will come to either of you.”

“You won’t get away with this.” Said Kara ….

“Now THAT is a classic line!” said Tech .. as he grabbed a handful of he treated black rope and walked towards Supergirl, Shannon, and Yose.

Holding the rope to Shannon – Jazz – he said; “Do you think you can do this properly this time?”

Shannon held the rope in one arm and led Supergirl back. to her room, without a word.

On the way Supergirl and Shannon talked, almost as if it was two friends strolling along.

“Why are you aligned with these guys? Why would you do this?” asked Supergirl, as she was led back to the bed she’s just escaped.

“It goes deeper than you could possibly know, SUPERgirl. You don’t know what real loss is.”

“That’s where you wrong …” said Kara.

Shannon stopped, looked at Kara thoughtfully for a moment, and then looked at the broken shards and the photo on the floor.

“He meant a lot to you, didn’t he?” Kara said.

“Sit down please …” said Shannon, not answering the question. “Take this.” With that, Shannon handed Kara the pile of black rope, and Kara immediately felt the effect of being so close to Kryptonite.

Kara sat on the edge of Shannon’s bed.

“Take a length and find the middle …” began Shannon. This is called the ‘bit’ of the rope.” 

It was knot-tying 101 for the Girl of Steel …

Kara took a suitably long length and found the middle.

“Good … now cross your ankles and bring the bite around, pulling the rope through.” 

Kara felt herself becoming weaker and more helpless with each turn. 

“Don’t cross the rope over itself. You have to keep your turns clean. It’s called ‘dressing’ the rope ….”

Kara was concentrating on her task, while feeling the effects.

Several turns later, Shannon went over and showed Supergirl how to bring the rope back through the middle of her ankles, tying a nice, clean, overhand knot twice and tucking any spare ends of rope behind her red boots.

“Now, SUPERgirl … take some more lengths and do the same below and above your knees.” Said Shannon.

Supergirl complied, thinking she was helping Lena by making herself helpless.

“Now … lie across the bed.” Said Shannon.

“Jazz … or whatever your real name is … you DON’T have to do this.” Said Kara, as she brought her tied legs up on the bed and laid diagonally from the headboard to the foot of the bed.

“You have no idea Supergirl.” She said. “I respect you, but you have to be here for a while.”

Shannon – Jazz – took another length of rope, about 20 feet long, and had Kara cross her wrists in front of her. Much like the tie job on her ankles, Shannon took her time. Dressing the rope, making sure the knots were tight, clean, and smooth against her blue body suit. She then took the Girl of Steels crossed wrists, raised them over her head, and stretched out Kara so her crossed wrists were tied, anchored, and tethered to the head post.

The Girl of Steel was helpless enough now, and attached to the bed she’s escaped from earlier. But Shannon was just beginning her tying process.

“Please…listen to me ..”started Kara again. 

Shannon produced the silk scarf and, making sure there was a tight knot in the center, effectively gagged Kara.

Kara’s eyes widened, pleaded, but Shannon set about her task. She’s let Kara get out of her bonds once before. She wasn’t about to let that happen again. Supergirl was surrounded by enough of the bonds so Shannon could work without worrying about heat vision or super strength.

Shannon doubled another rope and brought it around Kara’s waist, found the bite, brought it through her legs and completed the crotch rope. More rope was criss-crossed across Kara’s chest, effectively making a rope harness yoking her shoulders. This gave Shannon tie-down points where she could anchor the twisting Kryptonian to her bed. Kara pulled against the metal headboard but was stretched and anchored securely.

“I’ve got to tell you now, Girl of Steel, before I add this blindfold and finish making you comfy for the night, you are one terrible poker player.” Said Shannon.

Kara stopped struggling for a moment and concentrated on Shannon’s face.

“We don’t have Lena Luthor! That was a recording …” Shannon smiled. “You’ve been had my friend.”

Kara renewed her struggles but it was to no avail. Shannon had harness and roped her waist and now was finishing knots holding Supergirl fast to her bed. Kara had just enough slack to arch her back and twist … but Shannon left not one bit of slack. 

The old mattress creaked but the metal frame was more than sturdy enough for the rope and struggles.  
Shannon produced a long, silk scarf.

“Relax Supergirl. You’re not going anywhere. Enjoy the down time.” Said Shannon, as she double wrapped a silken blindfold around Kara.

Shannon left her makeshift room and headed back to the control center, leaving behind her a struggling, twisting super heroine in blue tights and black rope. Kara pulled at her crossed wrists and strained to find some give with her crossed and bound ankles. But this was her place for the evening. This was her “rope-cation.” 

Kara pulled and tried to see something through her blindfold, but her x-ray vision was weakened and her “mmmphhs” and muffled calls would be heard only by her captors. Kara was now completely tied, gagged, helpless, and struggling. A Kryptonian damsel in distress.


	7. Chapter Seven - Not What They Seem -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lena takes it upon herself to try to rescue Supergirl ... leading them, both, into a tight situation

Chapter Seven – Not what they seem –   
At the end of the nineteenth century the Standard Oil Corporation was depicted as an Octopus in an editorial cartoon that gained traction because of its accuracy. When the Standard Oil Company needed to move product, the company simply purchased – or intimidated – local carriers to give them the best rates and priority. No local carrier? No problem. The Standard Oil Company would create their own. A vertically integrated company that owned manufacturing, distribution, and point-of-sale of oil, gas, and every product in-between. Imagine what John D. Rockefeller could have done marrying his oil empire to the technology available a century later?   
Lex Luthor imagined this. With the power of The Monitor, Lex was able to turn his imagination into reality. Lex became the long-armed cephalopod that had everyone, and everything, within the reach of one of his tentacles.

“Why would someone bother to put the earpiece on our Scout Master?” Alex asked, not really to anyone, although J’onn and Dreamer were in the room.  
Alex was trying to problem-solve Kara’s disappearance as the three of them lit screens in J’onn’s new Private Investigator / Watchtower home.  
J’onn’s 1950’s, “Sam Spade” décor meshed surprisingly well with the technology. A worn, brown desk with a computer screen. A leather sofa with a spectroscopic analyzing machine on the coffee table. Nothing, at all, strange for a Martian-turned-21st Century P.I on Earth.  
“Thieves with a conscience?” offered Dreamer. “If you want someone out of the way but want to be sure they’re found safely, you’d do that.”  
“Well, at least ONE of them would.” Said J’onn. “According to the statements, the woman seemed most concerned about her well-being. Almost apologetic. The men, she said, seemed rougher.”  
While they analyzed the rope and technique, across town - in the Luthor Corp Towers - it was beginning to become apparent that the Girl of Steel had, uncharacteristically, not checked in at the end of the day. Lena was wrapped in her own research and she felt if her mind were filled with ideas, and engineering challenges, there would be no time, or space, remaining for reliving her relationship with Kara. Her exterior was polished, logical, some would say almost cold. Her environment inside was a storm of sorts. Ideas and memories blown about. It would have been easier, she thought, if her half-brother Lex had let her mind be “reset” my The Monitor - along with the billions who went on with their lives, oblivious to changes, both major and minor, that now marked the new, Post-Crisis, reality.  
“Where’s you friend?” Lex’s voice broke her momentary trance. Not one to be caught by surprise, Lena regained her inner calm and didn’t look up from her microscope.  
“She’s decidedly NOT my friend,” she answer her pseudo-sibling, “You, of all people, know that.”   
“I know, dear sister. You’ll forgive my adolescent needling at your expense. Isn’t this what siblings are supposed to do?” said Lex, picking up a piece of tech from the lab, examining it, then placing it back on the clean, glass workbench.  
“She never checked in.” said Lena. “I’ll check her comms.”  
Before Lena reached her cell phone, it was chiming with Alex’s number. If Alex was calling her former boss, it must’ve been important.  
“Where is she?” came the voice from her phone. Not a “Hello…” or “Lena, I need your help …” Instead, an accusation, she felt, immediately.  
“Where is WHO, Alex?”  
Lena was aware of the relationship. Aware of how Alex and Kara kept Kara’s secret life from her. Aware of the hurt and feeling that hovered – unspoken - in the air between them.”  
“Kara … Kara is missing. She was at one of your ‘planned events’ and now all we have is her comm earpiece and a story from a Central City Scoutmaster of three people and a van.”  
“Kara’s in trouble …” Lena said to Lex, which piqued his interest because if there was going to be “trouble” and “Kara” in the same sentence, Lex would almost surely be the first to know.  
His tentacles had grown, Post-Crisis, to government, transportation, energy, and law-enforcement. If there was an industry - or technology - or bill moving through Congress -that could be altered to Lex’s will, he knew about it.  
“I’ll call you back,” said Lena to her phone, as she moved from microscope to computer screen. What J’onn, Alex, and Dreamer had in tenacity, caring, and ingenuity – they lacked in access to the vast resources of Lex Corp. In a few minutes, Lena was using her AI interface and tapping into recordings and streams from a few hours prior at Central City Park.   
“I’ll leave you to your super friends and today’s crisis,” said Lex, as he went to leave the lab. “When you catch up with our wayward Kryptonian send her to my office. Tell her I want to have a word with her super ears.”  
Lex left while Lena zoomed and scrolled into a fuzzy image of a black van pulling away from the event that afternoon. A van with the infrared heat signature of two people in front, one kneeling in back, and one writhing on the floor.  
“Kara …” said Lena, in a whisper to herself.

Lena picked up her cell phone and called Alex while stuffing a large duffel and holding the phone under against her shoulder. “We’re looking for a black van. I have the license … I’ll take care of this.”  
Before Alex could respond, give any details about her interview with the Scoutmaster, or even get a word in, the line went silent and Lena was gone.  
This was Lena’s chance to show up the Girl of Steel. Her chance to turn the rescue tables and show Kara that she was the better person. Everyone paints themselves as the hero in their own narrative. Lex didn’t see himself as a multi-armed villain. Inside that bald head, he was a savior. A needed anchor to a chaotic world.  
Lena wasn’t a villain. Behind her brown eyes she was the victim. Living in the shadow of a brilliant, if unstable, half-brother and a driven and complicated stepmother. She emerged from the shadows as a force for good, not a tool for evil, as she knew she was depicted by Kara’s friends.  
At the waterfront, three prols, part of a larger movement made up of people whose minds had been grasping for a Pre-Crisis world they couldn’t, quite, remember, weren’t the terrorists. No, they were the light-givers. The Prometheus’ who would bring light to people everywhere by exposing the greed and power of Luthercorp. If it took blowing up a dam and washing away half of Central City, so be it. The greater good would be served. Prols, and the initiated, in untapped “cells” all over the world, would see a statement play out, and they’d be hailed as heroes of a new resistance. At least, that’s what they told themselves.  
Lena’s heels clicked down the shiny hallways of Luthorcorp with duffel over her shoulder slapping against her skirt with each step. Smart cuffs, computer, taser guns, random pieces of tech. She was the hero about to save a former friend to prove a point.

“What did she say?” asked J’onn as he - and Dreamer - looked at Alex, who was – in turn – staring at her phone.  
“Nothing we don’t know,” began Alex. “A black van. We know that already. She must have access to street cameras and surveillance that we don’t. Dreamer, can you try and tap into the DEO database? I’m going to find Lena.”  
With that, J’onn and Dreamer had their faces covered by the glow of computer screens while Alex, never one to sit in front of a glowing window to the world, went into the field in search of her sister.

Lena didn’t have to drive. The SUV - with tinted windows and her AI - did the driving for her, freeing her hands to tap and click her computer and search for the van on the next camera that was internet-connected. It didn’t take long. “LNC-2…” she was reading the license plate aloud and calculating likely destinations along the path from the park.  
“Not to the freeway … so they’re in town.” She said, partly to herself and partly to her AI, ‘Hope’ …”  
“Not to the water taxis…”

“Hope,” said Lena to here phone, which had a constant connection to her AI program, “Scan the waterfront. Parameters, the last twelve hours. Find a van matching that description.”  
“Yes, Miss Lu-Thor” came the too-polite computer reply.

Perhaps a minute passed. “Miss Lu-thor. I have found the van you requested.”

“Take me there, now!” said Lena. While her vehicle navigated the most efficient route Lena checked her bag.

“Arriving, pier 23.” Said Hope.

It wasn’t an, especially, welcoming destination. A rusted number “23” denoted the pier. There was a corrugated door and a hideous yellow paint that probably looked much better when this was a thriving part of the Central City waterfront and not a forgotten pier that would soon be demolished to make way for the next container-ship unloading facility.

“Hope; pull around the corner and park.” Said Lena. “I don’t want them to know I’m coming.” She said more to herself than to her AI companion.

Lena stepped out, greeted only by a stray cat that gave her a curious look and the yellow streetlights that were going on earlier each night as autumn took hold.  
Inside the warehouse, the Girl of Steel had spent the better part of an hour testing her bonds. She’d been stretched, though not uncomfortably, across Shannon’s bed. From headboard to the opposite end. Ankles crossed and bound with her wrists given the same treatment over her head. Supergirl had been compelled to tie herself, partly. And Shannon, who took pride – and her time – in dressing, tightening, expertly completed her helplessness and securing the kryptonite-infused bonds, which held Kara down.

“Hope,” Lena said, quietly as her silhouette passed in front of unused warehouses and broken streetlights, “interface with local scanners. I want to see what’s gong on in that warehouse.”  
“Yes, miss Lu-Thor,” came the reply that was a bit too loud for her liking. 

Lena turned down the volume on her phone. But, those vibrations were already in the air and Lena Luthor wasn’t the only person in the warehouse district with technology that was incongruous with the surroundings.  
Lena came to the front of the warehouse. There was no way to go around. Fences and barbed wire gave way to pilings and the bay. It was the front door.   
Not once for stealth, climbing around through windows, or anything that approached some kind of movie-ninja-superhero theatrics, Lena used an approach that was, decidedly, Lena. The direct approach … she knocked. 

To her surprise, there was an answer. 

“Damn that Lena,” said Alex. “She has every resource on the city. She could find the people who took Supergirl in about five seconds.” Alex downed the glass of wine she’d poured herself; not so much to enjoy but to try to calm herself. It didn’t work. So, she sent another down to keep it company.  
J’onn was, uncharacteristically, in his Martian form. Eyes focused on the screen and telling Alex to focus.  
Dreamer sat back form her screen. “We find Lena, we find them both. Can’t we track her phone?”  
“Right,” said Alex. “We can. I still have some DEO tricks and favors.”

Those two glasses of Chardonnay must’ve been congratulating each other on a job well done. Alex found her focus and her calm in the storm. She worked best under pressure and this certainly qualified.   
Clicks of a keyboard and phone calls to friends and she was like an arrow in search of a target. What appeared on her screen wasn’t, quite, what she expected.  
“Dreamer. What do you make of this?” asked Alex.

Both J’onn and Dreamer stood behind Alex’s chair … rushing to the point where Dreamer knocked a vase over and J’onn couldn’t have cared less.  
One the screen, where a blue dot should have pulsed and triangulated Lena’s cell phone location, there was – instead - about a dozen dancing dots, bouncing around a map of Central City like an 80’s video game where the goal was to gather, or eat, the dots.  
“What the hell?” came a chorus from behind Alex.

“Someone is messing with the cell signal. We can’t nail it down …” said Alex, who, at this point, was getting read to send a third member to the Chardonnay party in her system.

Lena did her best to look nonplused by the lady who answered. After all, in a district filled with run-down warehouses on a forgotten part of the waterfront with hardly a person in sight on the street, why wouldn’t someone answer the door? It would be like ignoring treat-or-treaters on Halloween the following week.  
“Uh, hello …” began Lena to the green-eyed lady who held the door open just enough for Lena to get a sense that there were other people in the room. “Uhm, Hi. I’m lost .. I saw a light and was hoping you could help me.”  
Lena was many things. An intuitive scientist. A, potentially, wonderful friend. Certainly a person of refined taste. But, lying, this ad-lib – nosey reporter, parental questioning, private eye – type of lying. Well, let’s just say that in this field, she left quite a bit to be desired.  
“Oh … dear…”said Shannon. “Lost … that’s SO easy to be nowadays.” Shannon was enjoying the moment. Even putting on the subtlest of affected accents. When Shannon was little she’d visit West Virginia with her father. After a week in “the sticks” (as he would call his home town she’d have the slower speech cadence and pseudo-southern drawl down.  
“Well …” she continued “… why don’t ya come on in and we’ll get you to a phone, sweetie.”  
Lena took a tentative step through the door and Shannon closed the portal behind her so the metal frame echoed through the cavernous rafters of the cold warehouse.  
The brief game was over. Lena knew. Shannon knew. Supergirl – squirming and straining against ropes only thirty meters away heard the sounds and knew something was going on. She may have been rendered only “human” strength by the kryptonite in the ropes. She may have had her eyes covered by a blindfold and not able to use her vision that went beyond the visible. But, Kara could still hear, perfectly well, the sounds of doors slamming and people talking. She’d been struggling – to no avail – against the ropes but had also heard the “prols” plan.  
A tsunami warning to evacuate the city. Strategically placed charges to breach the Luthor’s power plant in the dam, to wash away the Luthor’s coastal empire – several buildings of which lay down-stream from the massive lake held back by the dam above Central City. This would be their opening statement. Their preamble. Their message to other “prol” cells that dramatic action could be taken to shake up those in power. Not a wonderfully thought out result. But a plan it was … and Tech, Yose, and Jazz – Shannon – were this far down the path, and fate had delivered them one of the Luthors themselves. When things go well … they tend to build on themselves.  
“Where is she? Where’s Supergirl?” said Lena … finding a strength in her voice that even surprised Lena.  
“Oh …” came the answer from the makeshift command center as Yose rose. “Your friend is safe. And she’s out-of-the-way … for a bit.”  
“She’s NOT my friend.” Said Lena.  
“Funny ..”added Tech, “she said the same thing about you. You two are complicated. No matter. I think it’s about time you joined her.”

Lena took a step back and pulled from her duffel a small, black box. The purpose wasn’t, immediately, clear. But she held it like some kind of weapon and played her cards, with which she was confident.  
“Stop right there!” said Lena. “The DEO tracks me constantly and one push of this and you’ll wake up feeling like you’re nursing the worst hangover of your life.” With that, Lena held her finger over a black button on the even darker box she held.  
Tech and Yose would have laughed … but Shannon wasn’t sure their plan would work, so they skipped the gloating and went right to the reveal.  
“’Tell ya’ what, sweetheart …” began Tech … “Go ahead and push that button and, while you’re at it, check your fancy phone.”  
Lena did.  
Yose and Tech looked at each other. Finally, Yose spoke up. “You wanna tell her, or should I?”  
Lena’s phone screen was a series of random symbols. Moving, dancing, bouncing around.. but making no sense. The button on her stun device amounted to a soft “click” and nothing more. And her knees … she felt them get a bit weak.  
“E … M …. P … Lena dear. Electro-Magnetic Pulse,” said Tech. “Let me explain …”  
Lena didn’t need an explanation. She knew what any good high-school physics student knew. An EMP can render electronics useless. An EMP can be created with something as dramatic as a nuclear blast or something as mundane as a Tesla Coil. An EMP was what rendered her stun gun and phone useless. The DEO (and J’onn, Alex, and Dreamer) WERE tracking her signal. But, they were tracking two dozen false signals as well. Their screens would have been a sea of blue blips. Where was the real Lena? You may have well have asked; “Where’s Walley?”  
For five full seconds … which felt – to Lena – like five full minutes – an, almost, polite silence hung in the air. Then, Lena ran for the door. It was more of a gesture than a real effort.  
Tech took her by the arm. “Jazz … would you like to make our ‘guests’ comfortable?”

Jazz – Shannon – smiled. “Certainly.”

Meanwhile, Yose was picking up Lena’s dropped duffel bag. “This might save you some time.” Said Yose, as he reached in and pulled out a set of “smartcuffs.”  
“Planning to use these on us?” asked Yose. “Sorry … I’ve a better idea.”

Lena was led, by the three past the two disheveled, makeshift, rooms then to Shannon’s little district of the warehouse. There, from the doorway, she saw the Girl of Steel. Still in her blue and red, but with arms crossed and tied to the bedpost and her arching back making no progress in freeing her bound ankles and legs.  
“Lets see if we can get you two, ‘Knot Friends,” to stay for a while, shall we?” said Shannon.  
“It’s NOT friends, …” said Lena … picking up on Shannon’s double meaning.

“Oh … we’ll see.” Said Shannon … as she scooted a heavy chair across the floor and positioned it next to the writhing Supergirl.

“You’re making this too easy.” Said Shannon. She removed Supergirl’s gag and blindfold and Lena saw Kara in a way she’s never seen her before. Vulnerable, helpless, struggling, but almost resigned to her bonds.  
“Supergirl,” said Lena.  
“Lena” said Supergirl. “I take it the Cavalry isn’t far behind?’  
“Not quite …” said Lena.

The “Smartcuffs” were clasped to Lena’s wrists, behind her back, as she sat in the steal chair. A few “clicks” and her ankles were clasped together as well. Lena resisted, and the “smartcuffs” responded to their programming by reaching towards each other and joining -mid-way- to essentially, hold Lena in a seated hogtie.   
Kara, meanwhile, had her wrists released from the headboard – but still tied together. Her ankles were untied and released as well.  
Yose and Tech positioned Supergirl astride Lena … they were seated face-to-face. Kara’s wrists were released but quickly re-tied behind her back, around her own cape. The Kryptonite still doing its’ work, of keeping her weak enough to submit to the ropes.  
Kara’s ankles were retied to the back legs of the steal chair, while spare lengths of the Kryptonite rope were wound around the squirming “friends.”  
“By now I’m sure you realized that no one is coming for you,” said Tech. “They’re chasing ghosts. Phantom ‘blips’ on their screens.”  
Shannon went to work, securing Kara to Lena. Kara, straddling her once-closest friend. Lena, wrists secured behind her and ankles crossed and bound – again – by her own invention. Together, arching, pulling, straining against their bonds and against each other. This was how they would struggle and writhe until dawn. Until the birds woke the city and the “prols” moved ahead with their plan. Two helpless friends … forced to confront their bonds, and each other. Together …. Pulling and tugging .. but helpless and inseparable.


	8. Chapter 8 - Betrayed! -

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ... HI ... Author's note: I hope you don't find this chapter too silly. I'll post a "real" chapter in a bit. As I'm writing this, on Christmas, I thought It'd be fun to try something different (kind of like they did with that musical cross-over between 'The Flash' and 'Supergirl') - I do have a chapter with the same theme outlined - but inspired by Christmas silliness, here's a bad attempt at a "poetic preview" of a real chapter eight that's on-the-way. (really :-)  
>  Happy reading and, again, sorry if it's too ridiculous ... back to our regularly-scheduled=programming this weekend ... honest. Scott. Oh, and ... Merry Christmas :-)

It was a quarter past midnight  
Jazz sat by her screen  
While Kara and Lena  
Sat, struggled, and leaned

Kara would pull back, roped to her friend  
Lena pulled too   
But her cuffs would not bend

Shannon had rigged the friendly foes well  
And while they tried for freedom  
A tale they did tell

Supergirl first, asking how Lena was caught  
“You simply walked in? While I was tied to that cot?”

Her judgment was skewed   
But Jazz couldn’t tell  
That their friendship was complicated  
And all was not well

“And YOU – ‘Girl of Steel’ –  
… tied up in these ropes …  
Where’s your ‘Super’ strength now?  
Where do we pin our hopes?”

Jazz listened and thought about these “friends” she helped catch  
“They don’t seem too friendly, not at all what I thought ….  
“Lena was brilliant, too smart for their ploy …  
… and Supergirl roped tightly like some kind of play toy.”

Jazz went to her prols … “Yose” and his friend “Tech”  
“There something not right …   
…. These two are a wreck.”

“What do you mean?” asked Yose with a spin  
“We have a Luthor and Supergirl …”  
Tech added with a grin

“Lena shouldn’t have been that easy to take….  
… why would she come here?  
This was a literal ‘piece of cake?’ ”

Tech and Yose looked at each other, then back at young Jazz  
“Does it matter? We’re brilliant … you worry too much …  
The dam will go “boom” by tomorrow at noon …   
And those two will be here … it’ll all be over soon.”

“Here?” said Jazz to Yose, “…That’s not part of this plan!   
“… we’re clearing the city, of every woman, child and man.”

“Jazz …” began Tech … “You’re a brilliant engineer….  
…. your guidance on structures has brought this time near …  
…. But, you never really thought, that we’d waste our one chance  
…clearing a city? Sweetheart, this is our one dance.”

“What THAT supposed to mean?” said Jazz, her voice loud …  
“We’re not going to wash this downtown away …  
“We’re going to sound the alarm …  
…. And no one will stay.”

“Oh, Jazz …” said Tech as he rose and stood close  
while his friend grabbed Lena’s bag and fumbled inside  
“It’s time for her dose.”

“Dose of what?” said Shannon stepping back …  
“Dose of reality …” as Yose pulled a box from the pack.

“Lena came here with a bag full of toys … a cell phone of secrets … for two naughty boys ….”  
“We know you’re too soft, to go through with our vision …  
so you’ll be joining those two, in a – slightly – new position.”

Shannon ran for the door, but it was two against one ….  
A “Zap” than she fell  
A brief but effective stun.

Ten minutes later, Tech carried Shannon to her room and went through the door  
He set her bound form next to Kara and Lena on the floor.  
“What have you done?” said the two helpless friends.  
Then came the reply … “We want something more.”

Yose began … “We were happy to have our moment of fame …  
but then you, Lena, arrived, with your tech and your name.”  
“With two Super hostages, such a chance we can taste …  
“Supergirl and Lena Luthor … an opportunity we can’t waste.”

“We’ll be taking you two, while Jazz here can nap …  
but first a surprise … a little night cap.”

Tech pulled from Lena’s bag a can full of gas …  
“With that Kryptonite rope, this should work on you too …  
Spraying a mist towards Lena and Kara,   
the friends slumped together, there was nothing they could do.

Tech and Yose stood over three forms, sleeping and bound …  
They smiled and bundled the two friends in their van …  
Leaving Shannon in rope, to wake safe and sound …  
“With this cell phone and tech … we can make any demand.”

A few hours passed, Shannon slowly came to …  
In her room, now her prison, but she had no time to stew …  
She was tied hand and foot, by her very own rope  
There was a flood on the way, she arched and she hoped

They’d tied her crossed ankles and wrists together  
“A hogtie …” she thought … as she worked on the tether  
It held her tight, but Shannon knew rope  
As she wiggled and rolled, but began to lose hope.

Then she looked at her pictures and remembered the lessons  
Her father had tried to teach her years ago  
“Never give up … keep trying your best …  
you’re better than you think ….better than the rest.”

Her red hair was tousled …  
Her arms began to tire …  
Jazz wiggled and struggled …  
Her fate seeming dire …

Two blindfolded friends woke in a van – they could tell - …  
While Shannon was trying to reach knots she knew well …  
Lena and Kara were being carted away …  
While Shannon “Jazz” Long, grappled with ropes and she lay hogtied  
In her room, by the bay.


	9. Time to think ...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shannon comes to grip with being betrayed by Tech and Yose, while Lena and Supergirl are going to have to learn to work together and forgive, or be lost together.

Chapter Nine

Time to think is a rare thing. I mean, really think No distractions. Nothing ringing or binging or sounding to tell you there’s something you have to do. It’s like those tables in the house that pile up with great magazines and books that are picked up at some cure little bookstore. People imagine time to sit and read. A hot cup of tea and a dog at their feet by a fireplace. You’ll sit and read that novel with a content look; and you’ll stop, occasionally, to sip that tea and look up nonchalantly, with a satisfied grin, into the distance. Perhaps looking out a window at snow, or a light rain falling.

That, almost, never happens. 

Shannon Long was snoring. She’s been tugging at cuffs that were connected by her climbing rope through her harness and to her crossed and bound ankles, and finally fell asleep in a marriage of exhaustion and resignation.  
She wasn’t entirely uncomfortable in her jeans and with her wrists held close behind her. In fact, it was almost comforting, in a strange way, as she was used to the climbing ropes and could have worked the knots lose by now had it not been for the added smart cuffs Lena had brought and Tech and Jose used to complete her tie.  
The warehouse that had been the Prols’ temporary headquarters, hideout, and living space was a collection of random items looking, in their entirety, like the leftovers from a garage sale. An empty folding table that once held computers and screens, liter from fast-food snacks and late dinners, cords, wires, and an empty duffel bag with the Luthor logo across the side.  
“Luthor Corp – Working for You – “

Shannon had time to think. Time to remember another life. A life before a Crisis she didn’t even know took place. A life with her father who did his best to bring her up alone. He loved Jazz music. He loves getting away on weekends to bike and climb. More than anything else, he loves his girl.   
Shannon had wriggled, rolled, tried to work the bonds lose. It wasn’t that she lacked the strength. She lacked the will. How did she get to the point where she trusted some guys she met through the office to upend her life?  
She’d channeled her anger and hurt and pain into this new group. When you’re looking for a foothold on a hard climb, you’ll take what’s available. And the Prols were the nearest foothold on her attempt to climb back from her father’s fall.

Across Central City the architect of Luthor Corp, Lex, was trying to track his half-sister. He’d visited her lab and returned to his workstation, which he preferred to the shiny, sterile environment Lena had created down the hall.  
His desk was almost old-fashioned in that the technology was kept out-of-sight. His screen raised from the mahogany top and several clicks and clacks later he was retracing Lens’s activities for the day. No one was above surveillance in Lex’s world, least of all his brilliant sister.  
Especially since he’s worked so diligently to drive a permanent wedge between her and Supergirl – Kara Danvers. Orchestrated, played, and worked like a fine violin - or the crystal pieces of his chess set. Moves and counter-moves until he felt sure that Lena was turned against the Girl-of-Steel and was his compliant ally in his new post-crisis world order.  
Blue dots appeared and disappeared on a map of the city and Lex recognized the digital footprint of a hacker. Someone was trying to hide both her location and erase her whereabouts.  
Few people counted on Lex’s far-ranging brilliance and a few keystrokes later he had Lena’s last “pinged” location, the last place from where her phone was on and working. A warehouse along the waterfront.  
He stood languidly, sighed, and grabbed his long black trench coat as walked towards his private elevator to his fleet of vehicles below. Best not to raise an alarm. He strode to his elevator humming Mozart’s’ Piano Sonata number 11, and went to track down his mercurial sister.

While Tech and Yose drove their secured charged to places unknown, Shannon dozed and dreamt in their former hovel, half-sleeping and half-recounting all the places where she should have seen that betrayal coming.   
One thing that’s good about being tied down … it gives a person time to think. As Shannon drifted off she remembered the day of the “Crisis.” “Crisis on Infinite Earths,” as it was knows to J’onn and others who had knowledge of a pre-crisis universe. A universe where Lex Luthor was a criminal and not a Renaissance-man, savior. A pre-crisis where memories were as they had been since birth, and not altered by a ripple of tachyons that had changed things in subtle ways to the will of The Monitor, a being who wielded almost god-like powers, but was still not beyond human failings.   
Lex may have been transformed into an icon of brilliance and philanthropy through memory manipulation and his deal with the Monitor. But Lex was still Lex. For all of the changes to the multi-verse and reality in the defeat of the Anti-Monitor, Lex couldn’t escape his character.  
In Lex’s new reality he headed multinational corporations that reached into almost every industrial facet. One thing that requires is workers. While the Monitor could change what existed, he could not – for all his omnipotence – create life. Lex’s new empire needed employees. Minions. People to run every aspect of his operations. From the power plant at the Central City Dam, to his shipping company, which carted natural resources to and from Central City from the bay where Shannon now struggled.  
Shannon remembered the day she went climbing with her father. The last day she was with her dad. Most of us never know when that last day is actually here. For Shannon, it was a spring morning on a granite cliff above the water, upstream from Lex’s soon-to-be acquired dam.   
Pre-crisis, pre-Lex Corp, this was a public works project. An immense dam spanning the glacially carved valley that led to the bustling bay upon which Central City lay.   
Shannon and her dad, Jim Long, climbed a well-known route that would normally take the better half of a day. A traverse, a climb down, a spectacular view, then a final push to the top. That was the plan anyway. Before storm clouds gathered, despite the lack of a squall in the forecast. Before cold rain arrived and Jim was last seen plummeting into clouds and then was lost to the water below. Before a stunned Shannon clung to a granite rock face alone, crying, and screaming for a reply that would not come.  
In the days to come she would be part of a search effort. She would drive and hike the length of the water in the hopes of bring some kind of closure to the unreal events that took her dad from her.  
Shannon had no way of knowing that the “Crisis” was even happening and the storm was a quantum “hiccup” – a subtle change to make the new pieces of reality fall into place neatly so the Monitor could rearrange the world to make it fit the deal he made with Lex.  
Shannon had no way of knowing that far out to sea, working on a Lex Corp freighter, the man who – in a pre-crisis world – retained all the memories they had of being a father and daughter together – was the mad she called “pop.”   
A subtle change for Lex and The Monitor. A life-changing alteration for Shannon and her father. He now had no memories of his former life. Simply a merchant marine working with others in a Lex-dominated world. She, a damaged and bitter engineer … finding solace with a group of people, “Prols” they called themselves, who worked to unravel the Luthor’s hold on their world.  
Was she drawn to the Prols from some vestige of memory that she couldn’t, quite, grasp?  
Were others drawn to a pseudo-radical group because deep-down they knew that something wasn’t right about the Luthor’s hold on their reality?  
Whatever the case, and if Shannon knew it or not, she ended up putting her feelings aside to work with two hackers against the very person who stole her father from her. A father she thought was lost to the water.   
A father who was lost to the water. But was still alive. Alive and working a hundred miles off-shore on a tanker bound for the far east.  
Which is where J’onn caught up with it.

Alex, J’onn, and Dreamer had been setting up shop in their new ‘Watchtower.” J’onn’s office which, truth be told, looked quite a bit like the lair of the Prols. Fast-food wrappers. Screens, scanners, Martian technology. The usual fastidious Alex and Dreamer had joined J’onn’s bachelor lifestyle with their focused search for Kara. She’d been missing a day now and, with only brief breaks for food, J’onn and Alex were finally closing in on some answers.  
The rope J’onn had obtained held energy – like all matter. Vibrations, after-images, quantum variations that gave J’onn insight into Shannon’s thoughts. The image of her father in particular.   
“The most potent image in her mind was of this man.” Said J’onn, as he showed Alex and Dreamer a screen.  
On the screen the image of a fiftish man with a stubbly face and a hint of red hair left in his graying temples.   
“This was the man that I saw. I found him in the Lex Corp data base.”

“Who is he?” asked Alex.

“It’s not who he is, it’s who he was.” Said J’onn.   
‘The Monitor might have changed things, but it wasn’t perfect. I can’t find any record of this man pre-crisis. Yet, this is the man she saw. The man in the mind of the person tying those ropes on our scout leader. If we find him, we might get some answers.”  
Alex tapped into the Lex Corp database and there he was.  
“He’s an engineer in the fleet of Lex Corp tankers.”

“Do you know where he is now?” asked Dreamer.

“Currently on the ‘L. X. Lillian’ bound for Hong Kong.”

“J’onn?” asked Alex ….

By now J’onn had already transformed into his native look.

“I can intercept it at sea … ‘shouldn’t take long …” said J’onn. With that, the Green Martian was out the window and headed towards a bearing Dreamer had provided.

Sea stories abound in the merchant marine corp. Mermaids. Giant squid. Green guys with tridents swimming along next to ships. Still, there’s something unnerving about a six-foot tall, Green Martian landing on your bridge when you’re at sea.  
When the commotion had settled and J’onn produced a picture of the man he was looking for he didn’t have to wait long for his goal. There, on the bridge was a man fitting the description. The man he’d seen in Shannon’s memory. The man who had a name tag that read “Jim Smith.”  
“Smith?” J’onn said out loud. “Seriously, ‘Smith?’. The Monitor had power over time, space, and the quantum realm and the best new name he could come up with was ‘Smith?”  
A very confused Jim ‘Smith’ stood almost motionless. In times of great stress most people have three options. People think they have many … but it really comes down to three. Fight, flight, or freeze. You never, really, know which one a person will pick. It’s a complicated algorithm based upon how much sleep you had the previous night, your mood, how much coffee you’ve had that day, and how many movies you’ve seen.  
Regardless, Jim stood there motionless. Apparently he’d chosen the “deer in the headlights” option. J’onn reached a green hand for him and held Jim by his wrist.  
There wasn’t any resistance. Being starred down by a six foot tall Martian tends to keep one from resisting.  
J’onn raised his right hand to Jim’s temple and, Jim’s knees crumpled … his face became flushed … he gasped hard …. “Shannon!” he yelled.  
Jim remembered everything pre-crisis. And at the front of his memories, as she had been at the front of his mind since the very moment he saw her take her first breath, was his beautiful daughter Shannon.  
‘Where’s Shannon?” he demanded, he shouted, he stood and found his legs again and didn’t care if that was a six foot Martian in front of him or a six foot mirage … ‘Where IS MY DAUGHTER?”

At a warehouse on the pier a metal door jiggled, then the handle was cut clean off and it swung free.  
Lex had traced Lena’s signal to its last known location. A piece of the phone still lay on the mess of cables and wired left behind in a hasty exit.  
Shannon was shocked awake by the sound, still lying on her side with ankles and knees bound. But, amazingly, her writs were free.   
Shannon brought her now-free hands in front of her and scooted herself up.  
“Lex … Luthor?”

Lex looked around, then down at Shannon …. 

“Ironically, you have ME at a disadvantage … you are?”

“Nobody. I’m Nobody. I recognized your face. How could I not, it’s everywhere,” said Shannon.

Lex surveyed the warehouse and the situation. Nothing screamed “danger” or “trap.” He’d survived all those years, pre-crisis, by assuming everything was a snare of some kind.  
He walked towards Jazz and began helping her with the rope …

“Now, tell me, how did you find yourself here…” Lex began, ‘…and, incidentally, have you seen Lena Luthor on these premises?”

Shannon untied her remaining bonds and sat back on her hands …

“How long do you have?”

“Lena’s ‘Smart Cuffs.’” Lex said, as he held the now-open cuffs in his hand.

“When I, when they, left me here those were tight around my wrists. How’d you get them open?” asked Shannon.

“I didn’t” said Lex. Then, he looked off to the distance for a mamoment, and a hearty laugh filled the metal warehouse.

“Oh, sister … he said. Not to Shannon, but to himself really.

“Oh, sister dear … you really must pay more attention to programming.”

Shannon, now free and sitting with her knees drawn up was staring at Lex with a mixture of curiosity and distain.

“What are you talking about?” she said finally.

“You were restrained with these, right?” asked Lex, holding a smartduff in his hands.

Lex had read the intra-office memo about the cuffs. How they responded to a person’s struggles with an equal amount of force. 

“Apparently, my dear sister never stopped to think about what would happen if someone didn’t resist at all.” Laughed Lex. “You fell asleep, right?”

“Yes.” Said Shannon.

“And when you woke, these were open and off. If you resist, you can’t escape them. When you relax completely, the ‘Smart Cuffs’ do too.”

Lex was still laughing as he helped Shannon to her feet.

“So, young lady … Might you have an idea where my sister might be?”

Shannon was at a loss for words for a moment …. Then she told Lex of a place near the dam where they might have gone with Lena and Supergirl.

“Supergirl?” said Lex, suddenly losing his levity. “Supergirl is with them?”

Shannon explained how they’d caught the Girl of Steel while Lex took it all in.

In a parked van near the Central City dam, Lena Luthor and Kara Danvers were cuffed together … face to face. Both had writs crossed and cuffed around each other’s waist. Kara, still tied at the ankles with the Kryptonite-infused rope and both of the once-friends roped together at the knees, waist, and shoulders. The way they pulled, argued, squirmed, and struggled, the Smart Cuffs would have little chance of releasing them.

“This is all you’re fault …” began Lena …  
“MY fault …. Continued Kara …”

It went on like this as Tech and Yose exited the van, keeping Lena and Supergirl bound together and with time to work together against the bonds that kept them apart, and the very rel ropes and cuffs which now held them tightly together.

Back at “Watchtower” Jim Long, J’onn, Dreamer, and Alex sat with tea and computers on search for a girl who now called herself “Jazz.” A girl who, at that moment, was watching Lex Luthor drive away from the pier as she stood in an empty warehouse, feeling like she was still lost and alone on a granite cliff, a thousand feet above a cloudy abyss.


End file.
